When Darkness Catches the Light
by Sublime-Tranquility
Summary: Can two enemies find love in each other? What happens when a seductive mission comes along to prod them in the right direction? A thrilling tale that proves that anything is possible. Because we all know that a love that is denied can only grow stronger.
1. Nostalgia

**Disclaimer:** _These characters are not my property and they have been made by my guru J.K Rowling (hehehe)._

**Title of Story: **When Darkness Catches the Light

**Summary:** Can two sworn enemies ever find true love in each other? What happens when a seductive mission comes along to prod them in the right direction? Draco/Hermione

**Rated:** PG-13 for language, angst descriptions and some sexual connotations.

* * *

**Chapter One:** Nostalgia

_Sometimes I watch the world go by  
I wonder what it's like  
To wake up every single day  
Smile on your face_

_'Til I Get Over You, Michelle Branch_

Hermione Granger woke up at six o'clock in the morning, to the relentless ringing of her alarm clock.  
  
She groaned and rubbed her eyes furiously, willing her mind to wake up from its sleepy daze.  
  
Then her eyes widened.  
  
It was _September 1st_ today... the first day of her seventh year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  
  
Hermione grinned mechanically, as memories of the past six years at Hogwarts fleeted through her mind. _Harry... Ron... Ginny..._ she couldn't wait to see them all again.  
  
_Ron_. Hermione felt herself go red at the mere thought of him. She was grateful that no one else was in the room to witness her childish embarrassment at the thought of her... _boyfriend_...  
  
She shivered slightly. They had only been going steady for the past two months, and the whole concept of boyfriend-girlfriend was relatively new to Hermione.  
  
She always saw the other girls in her year sift through the boys, like they were some sort of ornaments in an antique shop – interesting to look at, but not something you would really buy and cherish forever...  
  
But Hermione... needless to say, she was different. She was much less whimsical, and her assets did not merely consist of everything below the shoulders. She had what few girls in her year had.

_Intelligence_.  
  
Her intelligence had its downside, being that Hermione would never really give herself away to another boy if she did not sense a real... _connection_ with him first.  
  
As a result, Hermione generally stayed away from the dating game, finding it mildly amusing but not completely predictable and safe.  
  
She always liked structure, rules, that feeling that something was so fool- proof it could not go wrong or act capricious. Hermione sticked to her books, her solid, reliable, veritable books, books that would probably never snap at her face or turn to noxious goo in her hands.  
  
Everyone always kept asking her when she would ever get a boyfriend, but Hermione always smiled faintly and said, "When the time is right."  
  
Had the time been right to get together with Ron though?  
  
Hermione knew Ron for what seemed like eons. She trusted him.  
  
But everything was moving so fast, much like a roller coaster, but minus the thrilling highs and startling lows. Sure, Ron was fun but he wasn't... _The One_...  
  
She still dreaded the memory of that day when her Advanced Potions class assignment – a freshly-prepared, complicated concoction of Veritaserum – had dropped into Ron's butterbeer...  
  
Hermione trembled at the mere memory of it. She could be so damn _clumsy_ sometimes! And some of the splashback had landed on Ron's tongue and...  
  
Next thing she knew, there was a drunk and intensely outspoken redheaded boy at her feet, pronouncing his years of undying love for her. Hermione had never been so embarrassed in her life, but what frustrated her so much was that everyone found it highly entertaining.  
  
In particular, she had never gotten over Ginny's immature outburst, consisting primarily of, "Gee, we could be sisters-in-law before you know it!"  
  
Hermione forced a laugh, but instantaneously retreated to her dormitory and did not emerge from it until the next morning, her eyes sore and hair dishevelled.  
  
Ron did not speak to her for days, turning a shade of bright scarlet every time Hermione asked him to pass the juice or uttered some other innocent comment.  
  
Seamus and Dean kept debating about which of them should be the best man and Ginny teasingly asked Hermione if she would prefer a Muggle or Wizarding wedding procession. Hermione tried to maintain a composed state of mind and knew better than to trigger another argument with her friends.  
  
_Friends_? Could her so-called 'friends' really be the ones to patronise her so much? They didn't even send her so much as one letter over the holidays! They were worse than even Malfoy, who hadn't been sustaining his usual demeanour of taunting her at every opportunity in school.  
  
_Malfoy_?! At this moment, her train of thought had been directed to _Malfoy_?  
  
Hermione sighed wearily. It wasn't the first time the blonde rebel had crept into her mind over the holidays.  
  
Her dreams consisted sometimes of Ron, but more often then not his stature seemed to shorten slightly, his freckles seemed to disappear, his hair seemed to lighten considerably... and his warm smile was substituted by a certain characteristically condescending smirk...  
  
Hermione growled and threw the covers over her head, as if she was scared that her thoughts were being telepathied over to Ron's mind...  
  
She shuddered as she recollected her thoughts.  
  
Hermione remembered how, during her and Ron's fight, she was frequently resigned to staring at the red and gold common room walls of Gryffindor House, until finally Harry could convince Ron to speak to her again.  
  
She didn't terribly miss Ron's company. Indeed, it was a relief to abstain from their otherwise constant bickering. His absence even gave Hermione a chance to think, to really think, about the situation and put her inherent analytical skills to practical use.  
  
Everyone had such high aspirations for her and Ron. Everyone would be so happy if they were to go out. Ron would be so happy. She didn't have the heart to let her best friend down, especially after all he had done for her.  
  
Yet she and Ron were _best friends_. There was a line that she thought she could never cross with him or Harry. She would never feel entirely comfortable kissing either of them passionately on the lips or carry out any other romantic gesture.  
  
So what did the quiet, nerdish, single Hermione do?  
  
Give in to the others' wishes, of course. Yet again, compromise her own feelings for the happiness of others.  
  
If only temporarily.  
  
The next two months were hardly different from the usual life at Hogwarts, except for the awkward clasping of hands and innocent pecks on the cheek. Hermione shared her first, passionate kiss with Ron probably a month after their public relationship was initiated, and even that wasn't as great as she thought it would be.  
  
Ron was gentle, true. She admired him for that. That, and his bravery at making the first move. The kiss was calm and sweet, but Hermione had expected blazing fireworks!  
  
Alas, from then on, Hermione knew that her feelings for Ron were merely platonic. And that's all they ever would be.  
  
Hermione glanced at the clock.  
  
_Woah_! she thought. _Seven o'clock already?!_

* * *

Hermione was fully clothed in her blue off-the-shoulder top and denim skirt in a half hour. She looked at herself in the mirror, blushed at her seemingly scantily clad mildly-tanned body, and then swung a stylish woollen jacket over herself to cover and complete the ensemble. She was confident, but not _too_ confident.  
  
She grinned at her reflection. _Now that's more like me_, she approved. She picked up Crookshanks and strode toward the car.

Her mother drove her down to the train station.  
  
Hermione had always thought she looked different to her stunning mother. It was a thought that had tugged at her subconscious mind every breathing moment.  
  
Her hair was brown and bushy, but her mother's hair was black and straight. Hermione's eyes were brown, yet her mother's were olive green. Hermione was very beautiful in her own innocent way, but her mother was simply _gorgeous_...  
  
"My Hermione is growing older," Hermione's mother interrupted her train of thought, "so she must take care of herself and her body-" here she paused for effect, "-and grow into a mature and responsible young women. Not that you aren't responsible already," she added, seeing the scandalised look on Hermione's face.  
  
Yet her mother's words ringed through Hermione's ears like a relentless chime, as she boarded the Hogwarts Express.  
  
It was true, she was growing older and that meant she did indeed have to watch out for herself more. _Good thing I have to cover myself up in robes then, I guess_, Hermione thought pensively.

* * *

"Hermione!"  
  
Hermione's eyes closed long-sufferingly as she recognised the voice.  
  
"I missed you, my _girlfriend_," Ron announced proudly, and planted a soft kiss on her cheek.  
  
Hermione grinned despite herself and nodded, but she couldn't quite bring herself to return the comment. Ron had never been very open about his feelings toward her... until today, that is...  
  
"But you didn't reply to my letters," Ron interjected, his tone of voice slightly accusing.  
  
Hermione frowned. What on earth was he talking about?  
  
"Sorry, Ron, what did you say? You sent me letters over the holidays?"  
  
"Well yeah," Ron went red. "I didn't mean to annoy you by sending them, its just I hadn't talked to you in a while and I just thought..." his voice trailed off.  
  
Hermione didn't get a chance to reply as she felt two hands covering her eyes.  
  
"Guess who!"  
  
Hermione smiled yet again.  
  
"Don't even make a move to disguise your voice, _Ginny Weasley_," she teased sarcastically.  
  
Ginny removed her hands and Hermione turned to see her in Harry's arms. Hermione raised a questioning eyebrow at Harry and he reddened and merely nodded.  
  
Hermione laughed and soon they were all caught up in hysterics.  
  
Hermione couldn't believe that she had been upset at her friends over the holidays. They all seemed to gel together nicely, the four of them.

She just couldn't break up with Ron... at least not yet. Perhaps she would grow to love him, with time.  
  
Everything at that moment seemed perfect to Hermione. Yet just then the compartment door opened haphazardly...  
  
"Sorry to interrupt your meeting of the Great Laughing Hyenas, but what the hell are you doing here, Granger? You're meant to be in the Head compartment up front."

* * *

**A/N:** Hey people! This is my first story so I hope its good and I would really appreciate all of your reviews whether bad or good. I have some really good ideas for this fic and I just hope you'll support me! Thanks for reading :) 


	2. A Different Kind of Story

**Disclaimer:** _No I'm not smart enough to create all these characters myself. J.K. Rowling is, though._

**Title of Story: **When Darkness Catches the Light

**Summary:** Can two sworn enemies ever find true love in each other? What happens when a seductive mission comes along to prod them in the right direction? Draco/Hermione

**Rated:** PG-13 for language, angst descriptions and some sexual connotations.

* * *

**Chapter Two:** A Different Kind of Story 

_He comes from a foreign place  
An island far away  
Intrigues me with every move  
Til I'm breathless, I'm helpless  
Can't keep my cool  
Steals my heart when he takes my hand  
And we dance to the rhythm of the band  
--Infatuation, Christina Aguilera_

"You're meant to be in the Head compartment up front."  
  
Malfoy had entered Hermione's compartment, eyes glistening with malice and arms crossed over his broad chest. His hair was slicked back with what seemed like vats and vats of hair gel. His lips were fixed in a thin straight line.  
  
Hermione felt her breath hitch.  
  
"What do you mean, Malfoy?" Harry said sharply.  
  
Malfoy smirked and ran his hand over his hair. Ron and Harry exchanged momentarily amused glances before Ron moved to stand in front of Hermione.  
  
"Answer him, Malfoy," he said coldly, his freckles blazing with anger.  
  
Malfoy merely sneered.

Ginny tightened her grasp around Harry's arm. Needless to say, Hermione was confused, but she desperately wanted to avoid conflict of any sort in her last year at Hogwarts.  
  
She placed a hand on Ron's shoulder and gently pulled him back, muttering a quick, "It's okay, Ron."  
  
Malfoy seemed to find this even more amusing. His cruel smile made Hermione's blood boil somewhat.  
  
"Cat got your tongue, Malfoy?" she scorned, betraying her New Year's resolution of peace.  
  
Malfor leered. "If it has, it's certainly not the filthy fur ball that you consider _your_ cat, Granger."  
  
Ron scowled. "Don't insult her, Malfoy. I'm warning you."  
  
Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Weasley, even _you're_ not foolish enough to threaten me. You are asking for a _death wish_, you know. Yet if I wanted to know if you were being serious about the warning or not, all I need do is drop a little.... _Veritaserum_... into your evening pumpkin juice and you will bare _all_... although I guess there's no other scandal that you _can_ reveal, now is there...?"  
  
Ron's eyes were blazing now and he looked ready to kill. Hermione shook her head. Ron was brave, perhaps even a bit _reckless_, and Malfoy was indeed right, Ron would never win in a duel against him.  
  
They were looking at each other with steely eyes, pure, unadulterated hatred on each face for the other's. Hermione would not let Ron endanger his life for her.  
  
"Um Malfoy," she spoke uncertainly, "why was it again that you came here?"  
  
She was regretful soon after uttering her words that they were not as bitter as she would have liked them to be. Yet the lack of bitterness seemed rather subconscious. She knew Malfoy would probably see the innocence as a weakness on her part and would surely use it against her.  
  
But when Malfoy glanced at her, his eyes seemed completely impassive. She willed herself to not become absorbed in those beautiful, silver orbs...  
  
"Pity you've lost that brain of yours in our last and most important year at Hogwarts, _Mudblood_," Malfoy sneered, emphasizing the last word with an almost fanatical relish. "I am Head Boy this year and unfortunately – for _me_, that is – you are Head Girl. So if your will make your _graceful_ appearance at the Head compartment when you think it best suits you, I'm confident they will not confiscate your title."  
  
Malfoy's voice was positively dripping with sarcasm. He bowed mockingly and left their compartment, his robes billowing behind him.

* * *

"Hermione, are you okay?" Ron inquired amiably, stroking her hair.  
  
Hermione felt a fleeting sense of irritation at Ron. _He's treating me like a damn baby! Malfoy didn't even lay a finger on me...  
_  
_But you wanted him to,_ another voice in her mind reprimanded.  
  
Hermione shook her head out of the thought.  
  
"Hey Hermione, " Ginny said, a smile playing on her face, "you never told me you made Head Girl! Well done!"  
  
Hermione opened her mouth to say that she didn't exactly know it herself, but then thought better of it. She didn't want to let on her doubt to the others.  
  
"Oh," she replied hastily. "I just didn't think it was important..."  
  
Ron playfully punched her arm.  
  
"Of course it is you dope," he teased. "Congratulations, I'm really happy for you."  
  
And he genuinely looked it. Hermione felt bad that she had ever experienced feelings of disgust towards Ron. He really _did_ care about her.  
  
"Well I guess you better go up front then," Harry nodded reassuringly at her. "I just hope Malfoy doesn't give you any trouble."  
  
Hermione smiled at his thoughtfulness. "Harry, I'm a big girl and I'm pretty sure I can look after myself. Malfoy is just a stupid jerk, so don't worry about me."  
  
Hermione really meant the last sentence. Malfoy was indeed a jerk. But she couldn't help but think that deep down, he was possibly just a sweet and vulnerable boy. Draco's macho act had mislead her for years, making her believe that he was simply born that way. But now... she truly felt different about him... and she didn't know why.  
  
Just then, Ron looped his arm around her waist and brought her closer to him. She could feel the familiar contours of his body next to her.  
  
"I swear Hermione," Ron murmured softly, so that only she could hear, "you look more and more _beautiful_ every time I see you."  
  
Hermione smiled and felt an overwhelming desire to kiss Ron, right in front of Harry and Ginny. Ron seemed to sense this, and instinctively placed a soft kiss on her lips.  
  
Waves of heat spread through Hermione. The kiss had numbed her sense of anxiety and indecisiveness and she felt momentarily elated. She took the initiative to deepen the kiss, resolutely wishing to slake her thirst for more of Ron's warmth. 

But her lips were prickling with the kiss. It was an odd and sore feeling.  
  
Ron withdrew almost instantaneously at Hermione's vigour, his face a deep shed of red as he glanced nervously towards Ginny and Harry, who were trying to maintain straight faces.  
  
Hermione sighed. She felt guilty and for some reason, evil, that she had so forcefully pulled Ron to her, just to satisfy her own desire. It was not a scandalous desire, really. She had just felt so cold and empty, for so long... but when kissing Ron, it just seemed to... _disappear_...  
  
But what of the tingling? Why had it felt so strange and even painful? It was not a normal feeling that Hermione had experienced before. She did not like the feeling one bit.  
  
Nevertheless, Hermione smiled supportively at Ron, nodding to signal that she was not upset at him.  
  
"Um, you better go before my brother starts shagging you senseless right here in this very compartment," Ginny giggled.  
  
Ron threw a scandalised look her way, but grinned sheepishly at Hermione.  
  
She returned the smile hesitantly and walked through the compartment door, unconsciously leaving it ajar behind her.

* * *

The journey toward the Head compartment was not necessarily a pleasant one. It was more reminiscent.  
  
Hermione didn't even get a chance to think about how happy she was with the news of her leadership position. She was certainly _pleased_. Pleased, but not _ecstatic_, as she thought she ought to have been.  
  
So why wasn't she?  
  
_Ron_, Hermione grumbled. It was _Ron's_ fault she wasn't over the moon. The kiss they shared was still nagging Hermione. She did not understand why it had hurt her, why it had tingled so peculiarly. Also the fact that Ron was treating her like she was a delicate porcelain doll and Hermione certainly did not appreciate that.  
  
Then her conscience bit back at her. _Ron is delightful, Hermione, he loves you_.  
  
_You're the selfish one, milking him for all he's worth and then leaving him to be abandoned._  
  
Hermione stopped in her stride.  
  
It was not really as if she _didn't_ love Ron. It was more so the strange, almost inherent feeling that Hermione felt she could love and trust _no one_... enjoy intimacy with _no one_...  
  
_No_, she told herself firmly. _I am not using Ron. I love Ron. I love him..._  
  
She repeated it like a mantra to herself silently, but she then realised that she was in denial. And the repetition of the phrase was not going to change the fact that she had _no_ romantic feelings toward Ron whatsoever.  
  
He was sweet, but a little... _too _sweet?!  
  
Hermione never thought there was such a thing as being 'too-sweet'. She had always loved stories where the hero rescued the damsel-in-distress from the wicked villain. The evil scoundrel was often left to rot in the dungeon, while the hero had been so benevolent and chivalrous and noble and kind...  
  
So why had she suddenly felt like she fancied the _villain_ of her story?

* * *

**A/N:** Hey everyone again! Another chappy from me but um yeah, appreciate any comments you give me and thanks for reading so far! Oh and thanks to my wonderful reviewers, you know who you are, I can't thank you enough. Aw I feel sorry for Hermione, she is so confused at the moment! Argh. But don't worry, I have a pretty good plot lined up, well I think its good (hehehe) and yeh it will straighten out Hermione's feelings a tad even though there is some deception yikes! lol. Coming up in **Chapter Three**: an appearance from Seamus and Dean and also the Headmaster himself and Hermione and Draco have a fight (as if you didn't see that coming!). I'm still debating with myself as to whether I should write at least a part of the next chappy from Draco's POV... though the consistency with Hermione might also have its advantages, even though probably in either chappy four or five or watever I will definitely have to change POVs... but I guess you'll have to wait and see my final decision... but thank you for reading :)! 


	3. Repartee

**Disclaimer:** _Harry Potter is a creation based on **my **imagination. Not._

**Title of Story: **When Darkness Catches the Light

**Summary:** Can two sworn enemies ever find true love in each other? What happens when a seductive mission comes along to prod them in the right direction? Draco/Hermione

**Rated:** PG-13 for language, angst descriptions and some sexual connotations.

* * *

**Chapter Three:** Repartee

_I've been driving for an hour  
Just talking to the rain  
You say I've been driving you crazy  
And it's keeping you away  
So just give me one good reason  
Tell me why I should stay  
'cause I don't wanna waste another moment  
In saying things we never meant to say  
--Breathe, Michelle Branch_

Hermione hurriedly walked toward the Head compartment, yet along the way she was forced to make a quick stop to chat to Seamus and Dean.  
  
Seamus and Dean were already changed in their robes and they were playing a game of exploding snap. Hermione noted a spot of soot on Dean's nose, which provoked an entertained smile from her.  
  
"Hey Hermione!" Seamus grinned. "How you been doing eh?"  
  
Hermione fixed her gaze on Seamus. His green eyes looked mildly sullen, but his overall appearance had still remained attractive. The freckles that used to be on his face had now disappeared. Hermione raised an eyebrow at this, but decided it was not polite to ask Seamus what had happened to them.  
  
"Oh, nothing much, you know, just the usual," Hermione muttered blankly.  
  
She didn't want to prolong the conversation, as she was already late to receive the debriefing of Headship duties for the year.  
  
"Hmm, how interesting," Dean responded, his tone of voice good-naturedly sarcastic. "You look a bit worn out, Hermione... late nights at Ronnie's house eh?"  
  
He sniggered. Hermione laughed nervously and Seamus eyed her in a seemingly brotherly manner.  
  
"It's so great you guys are together," he said thoughtfully. "It sort of brings us all hope that, even if you constantly fight with a person, there's a chance you could _still_ find a place for them in your heart."  
  
"Seamus?!" Dean gaped at him in mock horror. "You haven't fallen for Pug-face Parkinson have you?"  
  
Seamus grinned and shook his head. "She was a _crap_ shagger, mate," he blurted out, and reddened as Hermione eyed him disgustedly. "Um... nah, but seriously, I'm happy for Ron, 'cause I mean, even I knew he liked Hermione deep down..."  
  
Hermione's eyebrows were fused together in mild exasperation. _They were acting as if she wasn't even there!_ And what the hell was Seamus hinting at, that a person could _fall in love_ with their apparent _enemies_?  
  
"Um sorry guys, but I _really_ have to get going," Hermione said hastily, flashing a fake smile in their direction.  
  
She moved to open the next compartment door.

* * *

"Ahh, _welcome_ Head Girl," Dumbledore said proudly as Hermione stepped into the Head compartment.  
  
"I'm so sorry I'm late, Prof-" Hermione stopped as she took the atmosphere in.  
  
The room – yes, it _seemed_ like a room – was magnificent. The ambience was undoubtedly majestic, aided by the fact that the walls were a royal purple colour.  
  
_Hmm_, Hermione approved, _the colour seems impartial enough_.  
  
The room had a deceptively high ceiling with a small, ornate chandelier hanging from it. The crystals were faceted so that they caught the sunlight effectively and reflected the light onto the walls. There were two elegant sofas in the compartment, and each sofa was neatly embossed with a 'H.B' or 'H.G'. The carpet – was _it carpet?_ Hermione thought suspiciously – was soft and woollen to the touch and her senses immediately calmed from the radiating heat of the roaring fireplace.  
  
"It's..." Hermione began, still astonished at the amazing sight before her. "It's..."  
  
"_Beautiful_?" drawled a cold voice from behind her.  
  
Hermione turned around, only to discover that she was face to face with Draco Malfoy. He was about three inches taller than her, and his eyebrows were raised musingly in her direction.  
  
Even though Ron was much taller than him, Malfoy seemed to intimidate Hermione to a greater degree. She felt her face redden slightly as his deep silver eyes seemed to bore into her own mocha brown ones...  
  
"Granger," he said evenly.  
  
"Malfoy," Hermione returned curtly.  
  
Hermione thought she had seen Malfoy's eyes widen slightly when she had gazed at him. But the moment he had drawled her name so coolly, she knew she had probably imagined it.  
  
"Well, I do suppose you know why you're here," Dumbledore coughed somewhat deliberately.  
  
He surveyed the two of them transiently, before continuing.  
  
"I sent an owl to your home address, Miss Granger, informing you of your position. I requested you to reply with a letter stating your acceptance or indeed rejection-" he chuckled, "to your Headship, yet I never received a response."  
  
His tone of voice was not reproving or even questioning. Dumbledore just sounded straightforward, but Hermione assumed he wanted her to explain herself to him.  
  
She started to open her mouth, then halted.

Draco was there in the room, and simply put, she did _not_ trust him. She couldn't tell Dumbledore in front of Malfoy that she had not obtained the Headship letter in the first place... or indeed, _any_ of the letters that had been addressed to her over the holidays...  
  
"I am sorry I forgot to reply, Professor," she muttered, not quite meeting Dumbledore's eye. "But let me assure you I would be _delighted_ to accept the position of Head Girl."  
  
Her voice was matter-of-fact and devoid of any happy emotion whatsoever. Dumbledore's eyebrows rose slightly, but he did not interrogate her further.  
  
He crossed over to the small desk located in the far-right hand corner of the compartment.  
  
Hermione eased slightly, and felt Draco walk forward until he was standing a few feet beside her.  
  
She saw out of the corner of her eye that Draco was stiffly looking forward at the wall in front of him. His face seemed blank, as usual.  
  
Hermione admired the way his hair was slicked back so neatly. There was not _one_ stray hair that had escaped the slather of gel and it gave Malfoy a neat... perhaps an even _detached_ look. His nose was sharp, probably a tad _too_ sharp, but it fitted in with his overall look. But it was his eyes that had intrigued Hermione the most.  
  
They seemed so deep, yet at the same time, so guarded. They had made Hermione feel self-conscious, nervous, wearied, awkward... yet at the same time, _captivated_.  
  
She smiled slightly as Dumbledore came back from the desk, carrying a large scroll of parchment.  
  
"There is not much to tell you, other than what was written in the letter-" he paused, eyeing Hermione intently once more, "but I shall inform you of the password that Malfoy has chosen for your shared common room."  
  
"_WHAT_!" Hermione yelped. "Um sorry Professor... that is to say, what do you _mean_ exactly by the phrase 'shared common room''?'"  
  
Her skin had gone a few shades lighter. Sharing a room with Malfoy wasn't exactly akin to a pleasant picnic in the park, or...  
  
"What Professor Dumbledore was referring to, _Hermione_," Draco said, pronouncing her name with evident signs of abhorrence, "was that, as the two Heads of the school, we will be sharing an exclusive common room. The password to the common room is: _Veritaserum_," Draco ended, a smirk spreading across his face.  
  
Hermione discreetly rolled her eyes. Malfoy was acting like an insensitive jerk. Well, really, he was going _back_ to his old ways.  
  
Dumbledore glanced at his pocket watch and said, "I have some other business to attend to, so I shall... erm... leave you two to get _acquainted_."  
  
He smiled genially and walked out of the compartment, leaving an open mouthed Hermione and smirking Draco behind him.

* * *

**A/N:** Hi hi everyone, I hope you're all doing well and I hope that you like the story so far! I guess not much really happened here between our Hermione and Draco (even thought he is still a chauvinistic jerk... gee I hope I spelt that right lol), but I assure you there will be lots of tension between them in the next chapter as they get acquainted, smirk, lol kidding! Um I have decided that from now on or more likely, from chapter six, I will also start including Draco's perspective because I think it will somehow make the story better (somehow... lol) So keep reading kids and thanks for the reviews! Oh and HighHeels24 the chapters will get much much longer, so don't worry :) 


	4. Mixed Emotions

**Disclaimer:** _I don't own jack shit, it all belongs to a flithy rich Miss Rowling. I'm merely borrowing her characters because I am too lazy to come up with characters myself. That, and it would be a true pity to exclude Draco Malfoy from the story._

**Title of Story: **When Darkness Catches the Light

**Summary:** Can two sworn enemies ever find true love in each other? What happens when a seductive mission comes along to prod them in the right direction? Draco/Hermione

**Rated:** PG-13 for language, angst descriptions and some sexual connotations.

* * *

**Chapter Four**: Mixed Emotions

_One thing  
I don't know why  
It doesn't even matter how hard you try  
Keep that in mind  
I designed this rhyme  
To explain in due time  
All I know  
Time is a valuable thing  
Watch it fly by as the pendulum swings  
Watch it count down 'til the end of the day  
The clock ticks life away  
It's so unreal  
--In the End, Linkin Park_  
  
Draco crossed over to the sofa marked 'H.B' and collapsed on top of it.  
  
Hermione raised her eyebrows. _He seems to be actually enjoying this!_ she thought incredulously.  
  
Draco passed his hand on the top of his gelled hair and yawned ostentatiously.  
  
Hermione felt her lip twitch.  
  
"Well you might as well get _comfortable_, Granger," Malfoy drawled. "Oh and the whole 'mouth hanging open' fixation – it doesn't really complement your already _repulsive_ face."  
  
Hermione closed her mouth hastily, her cheeks starting to redden.  
  
"Thanks for the tip, Malfoy," she retorted, a little too harshly.  
  
"Temper, temper," Malfoy smirked, waving a slender, pale finger at her.  
  
Hermione groaned in annoyance and walked over to her futon. She patted the mattress, and found that it was actually a small waterbed.  
  
"Cool, we get waterbeds!" she exclaimed, forgetting for a mere instance that Malfoy was in the room.  
  
"_Waterbeds_, Granger?" Malfoy replied sourly.  
  
Hermione glared at him. His hands were supporting his head and he was leaning casually on the cushion. His robes were open slightly at the top and she caught a glimpse of his surprisingly tanned body. She shook her head and frowned. He was clearly more relaxed than she was.  
  
"Beds filled with _water_, Malfoy," she said simply, sounding as though she were talking to a two-year old.  
  
Malfoy sneered. "These aren't _waterbeds_. Though I don't expect you to have acquired that knowledge, you being a muggle and all-"he paused, savouring the annoyed expression on Hermione's face. "To enlighten you, these sofas are _actually_ filled with _dreams_ that the maker wishes the sleeper to experience in his or sleep. The dreams can be happy, frightening, or reflective and the really powerful beds can teleport the person's mind to another place, where an important event could be transpiring. All the properties of the _Dream Divan_ – as it is often referred to – have not yet been completely ascertained."  
  
His voice was steady and it became palpable to Hermione that Malfoy was not the dim ogre she had believed him to be.  
  
"Thank you, _Mr. Textbook_, even though I was _already_ aware of what a _Dream Divan_ was," Hermione lied, before climbing onto the couch.  
  
It was very soft to the touch and felt like it contained _jelly_ or some other wobbly sort of substance. Her cushions were bright red and yellow, while Draco's were predominantly green and grey.  
  
At that moment, Hermione wished that either Harry or Ron or anyone else for that matter could have been Head Boy. She was not looking forward to sharing a common room with Malfoy, or working together with him in their school duties.  
  
She shivered as she reflected on all the times Malfoy had hurt her.  
  
There was the painful escapade of her teeth being enlarged. The mere memory still brought tears to her eyes. Her jaw had felt like it was tearing in two, and for the first time Hermione had _no_ control over herself or her body. She was scared of being dominated and controlled like that again.  
  
Yet the experience was fruitful in the end, as Hermione's teeth were permanently reduced to normal size. This gave her some confidence and she admitted to herself that she now looked _pretty_ good.  
  
_Not as good as mother, though_, she thought wistfully.  
  
She turned onto her side and began tracing around the emblem of the Gryffindor lion on one of the cushions. Its eyes were so fierce and the spear that it held seemed awkward for a beast, but then, on closer inspection, it actually seemed to suit the lion at the same time.  
  
Hermione frowned pensively at the memory of when she sat on the Sorting stool and placed the Hat on her head.  
  
_Hmm,_ she remembered the Hat to have murmured. _Yours is a tricky case. I see exceptional intelligence and wisdom, seeing you fit to be in Ravenclaw. Yet I also see a hidden strength and bravery that has not been tapped into, as of yet, in which case Gryffindor would be a good choice. So these are the two- wait a moment- _the Hat had paused and Hermione trembled as she felt the uneasy feeling of her private thoughts being invaded. She remembered to have repeatedly chanted '_Gryffindor_' in her mind. _I feel an... intrinsic streak of... malice? _The Hat spoke tentatively. It seemed to Hermione as if the Hat was asking a question, and she seemed to have answered it in her head, for it later said, _You could flourish in Slytherin, you do realise? Yet by your will I shall say... "GRYFFINDOR!"_  
  
Hermione had never forgotten its words.  
  
She did not understand what the Hat had meant. She had an intrinsic streak of _malice_? Well that really was the surprise of the century. Hermione had not ever felt _malice_ at Hogwarts.  
  
But at home... well, sometimes her temper had been ignited, but she never really did anything too terrible. But _malice_... what _was_ malice really?  
  
She desperately wanted to talk to someone about the Hat's words. However, she knew Ron and Harry and Ginny wouldn't understand her story. _They_ were probably never told that they would be better in another house, even more so _Slytherin_ house. _They_ were probably true blue – or, more relevant to the truth – true _red_ Gryffindors.  
  
Hermione scanned the room again. The fire was roaring, right next to the transparent compartment door. Hermione thought she saw an odd glimpse of red outside the door, but when she blinked, she realised she had probably imagined it, because it was then nowhere to be seen.  
  
Hermione sighed audibly and only remembered that Malfoy was in the compartment when he spoke.  
  
"Never thought you would _lie_ to Dumbledore like that, Granger. I'm seeing a new side – a Slytherin side – of you, which is very refreshing. Only a few minutes together in the same room and already my qualities are rubbing off on you. Not bad, not bad."  
  
He stared at his fingernails arrogantly as he spoke. He had irked Hermione; exactly what he had strived to do.  
  
Hermione forced a tone of calmness in her voice. "What exactly do you mean _lying_, Malfoy?" she asked innocently.  
  
Malfoy sneered and shook his head, as if that was his answer to her question.  
  
She sighed exasperatedly. This seemed to entertain Malfoy further and he passed his hand over his hair, smoothing out any possible fly-aways.  
  
"Must you _always_ do that?" Hermione groaned.  
  
Malfoy raised his eyebrows at her. "And what exactly do you mean by _that_, Granger? Last time I checked, this country was still a _democracy_."  
  
Hermione felt her blood curdle yet again, but she knew better than to start an argument with Malfoy. She did not want to jeopardise her leadership position. She rubbed her eyes forcefully, greatly hoping that when she opened them again, Malfoy wouldn't be there.  
  
He was still there when she opened them. Hermione groaned inwardly.  
  
"Why did you bring that filthy fur ball in here, Granger? You know, some of us might be _allergic_ to cats," Malfoy said sardonically.  
  
Hermione's lips curled into a cruel smile. "Perhaps that's indeed the reason _why_ I brought my cat, Malfoy."  
  
Malfoy rolled his eyes and walked over to the desk in the corner of the compartment and perused through the documents set there.  
  
"You really shouldn't be looking through those," Hermione reproved.  
  
Malfoy tossed her a casual glance. "Dumbledore _left_ them here so they are _obviously_ for our reference. And even if you are indeed _correct_, why would I listen to a filthy _Mudblood_ like you anyway?"  
  
Hermione stood up from the divan, her eyes flashing dangerously, reminiscent of dark dungeons. She felt like her whole body was submerged in a fire of pure rage. She had never felt such anger in her life, as suddenly all of her problems came back to her memory.  
  
_Not being as pretty as her mother... Creating a façade of loving Ron... Having mixed emotions for both Draco and Ron... Not getting her mail..._  
  
And to top everything off, Malfoy had just called her a _mudblood_. How much of _bastard_ was he?!  
  
Hermione narrowed her eyes dangerously. She felt like fury was running through her very veins. Her eyes began to prickle... the same feeling as when her lips had prickled with Ron's kiss...  
  
Malfoy's eyes widened.  
  
"What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?" he said sharply, his voiced tinted with mild fear.  
  
She frowned and felt herself calm down somewhat.  
  
"_Huh_?" she responded vacantly.  
  
Malfoy gaped at her in undisguised awe and confusion. He then slowly shook his head, his eyes never straying from her own.  
  
"It's... not important."  
  
Confusion swept through Hermione. What the hell was Malfoy _talking_ about? She didn't even do _anything_; she hadn't even moved a _muscle_ to threaten to hit him or anything! So why was he looking so shocked? She knew that questioning him would not yield a mature answer, so she discarded the thought from her mind.  
  
Draco avoided her interrogative stare deliberately. He still looked somewhat stricken.  
  
Just then, a voice rang through all the compartments, advising that they had nearly arrived at Hogwarts.  
  
Hermione hastily packed up her stuff and smoothed the wrinkles out of the sofa. The warmth of the fire was still emanating through her and she didn't want to leave the compartment. Except, of course, to get away from Draco.  
  
She chanced a glance at him.  
  
He was reading a piece of parchment, his eyes slightly wide, but otherwise expressing no emotion.  
  
It was almost as if he was... afraid... to show how he was feeling...  
  
This thought made Hermione's eyebrows rise. She had never met someone like Draco, someone scared to showcase how he or she was feeling. The people she knew were always so open, you could see their emotions clearly adorned on their faces. _Happy... sad... angry..._ you name it, you saw it.  
  
But, needless to say, Draco was... _different_. He was always so shielded. Perhaps _he's afraid of showing weakness_, Hermione alleged ponderingly. _And_ _I wonder what's in that letter..._  
  
Yet Hermione's suspicions were halted as she disembarked from the carriage, Crookshanks in her arms.

* * *

"Hermione!"  
  
Hermione had just greeted Hagrid and was just about to start walking toward the Great Hall when she heard her name. She turned to see an exhausted Ginny and Harry, carrying many bags.  
  
"Hey guys," Hermione said uncertainly.  
  
Ginny started to laugh and punched Hermione lightly in the arm. "You are just _so_ sick-minded, Hermione! No, the reason we look _tired_ is 'cause we're looking for Ron."  
  
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean, you were _looking_ for Ron? He was with _you_, wasn't he?"  
  
It was Ginny's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Well, no actually, he _wasn't_. A while after you left, he said he wanted more cauldron cakes so he went up front to get them. Funny thing is, he didn't come back to get his luggage-"she pointed to some of the bags she was carrying, "so when we got off, we just assumed he was with you."  
  
Hermione absent-mindedly scratched her head. "No, I haven't seen him at all. You said that he told you he was going to get cauldron cakes?"  
  
Hermione severely doubted whether this was Ron's actual intention.  
  
Ginny looked mildly perplexed at Hermione's question, as she had only just answered it before, but comprehension dawned on Harry. "Well, that's what he _told_ us," Harry admitted. "I mean, we'll probably just see him in the Great Hall soon enough. Hey Hermione, I'll take Crookshanks for you, Ginny just adores him-"  
  
"_Rebecca_!" Ginny yelled, spotting her smiling red-haired Ravenclaw friend and tugging Harry, holding Crookshanks, along to greet her. "See you soon, Hermione!"  
  
Hermione chuckled and shook her head. And then she remembered what Ginny had told her. It was indeed _possible_ Ron had gone to get more cauldron cakes, as Hermione knew full well he had a huge appetite. But there was something... _more likely_... _more relevant_ to the situation that Hermione would have suspected Ron to do.  
  
_Spy on me_, she growled.  
  
Hermione ushered the others into the castle and once most of them were inside, she herself stepped inside and was just about to turn the corner to enter the Great Hall when before she knew it, she was pulled into a nearby, dark broom closet.

* * *

**A/N:** Argh you all are gonna hate me for that cliffhanger! Who is the mysterious grabber?! Hehehe guess it's more incentive for you to read on! Hope your all going well and also that you like the story thus far. Let me just warn you, the story will end up being very long and the chapters will probably begin to increase in size but I also hope that won't put you off reading it :)! 


	5. A Relentless Fear

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own Harry Potter, but I do own a pair of dangly earrings. _

**Title of Story: **When Darkness Catches the Light

**Summary:** Can two sworn enemies ever find true love in each other? What happens when a seductive mission comes along to prod them in the right direction? Draco/Hermione

**Rated:** PG-13 for language, angst descriptions and some sexual connotations.

* * *

**Chapter Five:** A Relentless Fear 

_A hundred days have made me older  
Since the last time that I saw your pretty face  
A thousand lies have made me colder  
And I don't think I can look at this the same  
--Here Without You, Three Doors Down_

"What the-"Hermione's voice was silenced by a kiss.

She knew those tender lips well. The person was none other than-

"_Ron_!" she spluttered, once he had released her. She cast the Lumos spell, effectively illuminating the closet.

Ron was smiling broadly, and his freckles seemed to be dancing. This elicited a grin from Hermione.

"I couldn't bare to be away from you, _my dear_," Ron said, stroking her cheek.

Her eyes closed against her will. There was just something about Ron's soft caress that always calmed her. She felt her breath hitch and her heart began pounding lightly against her chest.

"It was... just... a few minutes..." she managed to gasp.

Her abysmal effort to speak made Ron smile wider, if it were possible. He leaned in close to her ear.

"A few minutes _too long_," he whispered seductively.

Hermione's heart was now relentlessly pounding. Ron had _definitely_ changed over the holidays. _Definitely_...

He extended a pale finger and ran it down Hermione's neck. Hermione just loved his gentle touch... she just loved his warmth spreading over her... she just loved _him_...

Her eyes closed artlessly. Ron's finger reached Hermione's robes and found its way to begin undoing her top button. The skin on Hermione that he touched began prickling uncomfortably.

This somehow jolted Hermione to her senses. She placed her hand on his.

"Ron..." she sighed, pushing his hand away.

Ron took back his finger hastily, and turned away from Hermione. He seemed hurt. Hermione felt a rush of regret.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Ron muttered. "I didn't mean to..."

Hermione cupped his chin in her hand and directed his gaze back onto her. His eyes seemed slightly indignant, but there was no way he could ever disguise their profound warmth...

Hermione smiled at him. "Shh. I should be the one apologising-"

Ron raised his eyebrow a little. "What do you mean, Hermione?"

Hermione turned away from him. _You have to tell him now, Hermione,_ a voice was telling her. _Tell him you don't love him right now, before he gets even more hurt later on... a lie that draws a smile is worse than the truth that draws a tear...  
_

"Hermione?" Ron urged. "Why are you saying sorry?"

Hermione looked back at him. She could see that Ron was worried about her; it was evident in his eyes. He just loved her so much. Hermione felt tears come to her eyes, but she stubbornly held them back. _You have to tell him... now...  
_

"Oh... well, I guess just because I had to leave you in the train, that's all," Hermione muttered, forcing a smile on her face.

Ron appeared relieved, and he even laughed. "Hermione, you know that's not your fault... gosh I can't believe _I'm_ dating the _Head Girl_... I just hope you won't punish me if I'm... _naughty_..." he ended, a mock pout spreading over his face.

Hermione laughed and jabbed her finger into Ron's chest. "You better watch out, mister... I can do much, _much_ more than just take house points from Gryffindor, you know..."

Ron lunged forward at that moment to kiss Hermione. Her eyes closed immediately. She felt that familiar feeling of warmth sweep over her yet again. She ran her hand through Ron's closely cropped hair. Their tongues were intertwined, their tastes mingled...

Hermione smiled into the kiss. Ron again started to undo her top button. The same prickling feeling came over Hermione's skin, but this time it was more amplified.

Hermione withdrew, re-buttoned her robes, unconsciously rubbing the skin on her chest that had prickled, and glanced at her watch. She hastily thought of a reason for her retraction.

"Um, Ron... _geez_, the feast is nearly finished! What the hell is everyone going to think when Dumbledore announces I'm Head Girl and... they see that I'm not even _there_?"

Ron raised his eyebrows at her questioningly. Hermione knew her reasoning was not plausible.

"Hermione," Ron muttered, his eyes boring into her own," you know as well as I do that they announce the Head Boy and Head Girl two weeks _after_ the year starts, just so they can see whether you guys are good at your jobs or not... Hey, that gives me an idea..." a smirk spread across Ron's face.

"Ron, what is your, er, _idea_...?" Hermione inquired tentatively.

Ron grinned sheepishly. "I think I have a way to get Malfoy... _deprived_... of his Headship..."

This had surprisingly caused Hermione much anger. True, a part of her had wished Malfoy _wasn't_ going to be Head Boy... but another part was looking forward to spending time with him... the latter was an astoundingly _bigger_ part...

Hermione was infuriated that Ron would even _contemplate_ placing Malfoy's leadership position in jeopardy. _Omit the fact that he's a Malfoy, Ron shouldn't be doing that sort of thing to anyone!_ Hermione thought exasperatedly. She felt the same anger, the same hatred that had welled inside her as before...

Ron's eyes widened. "What the _hell_...?"

Hermione snapped her attention back to Ron and was astonished to see that he had fear evidently plastered on his face. The same sort of expression that Malfoy had had on _his_ face...

Hermione was mystified. Why were they suddenly _scared_ of her?

"What's wrong, Ron?" she inquired, forcing a manner of casualness in her voice.

Ron shook his head, a little too vigorously, and muttered, "You're right, we better go back to the feast..." and exited the broom closet, leaving a bewildered Hermione behind him.

* * *

Hermione left the broom closet, nearly tripping over her robes. She was not looking where she was going, as tears began welling up in her eyes.

She had been _so_ looking forward to her last year at Hogwarts. The prospects of exhilarating and interesting academic challenges in the seventh and last year had forever kept her engrossed and focussed in her schoolwork the past six years.

First, she had found out she was Head Girl. That was what Hermione had been striving for, all these years, for her name to be engraved on the school board, for her name to remain at the school perpetually. She felt she had so much to offer Hogwarts, that when she left, her name would always be on people's lips when they reminisced of the fun gatherings that the Heads had organised. Funny thing though, Hermione _wasn't_ delighted at her Headship.

Then, she had discovered that the position of Head Boy had been awarded to none other than Draco Malfoy – her ach-nemesis for as long as she could remember. He had done so many horrible things to her, had branded her an impure Mudblood unworthy of attention or admiration. So why did Hermione suddenly have feelings for him? And was it a _real_ feeling or just childish infatuation?

And then came Ron, this perfectly sweet guy, the guy who she had trusted and respected for so long, who had suddenly confessed his feelings for _her_, the uninteresting _nerd_ of the school. She should feel _happy_, even _privileged_ at Ron's love for her... but she didn't feel like that _at all_.

She just wasn't happy today, even though she had plenty of reasons to justify happiness.

But everything had just _seemed_ to go so wrong.

Hermione sighed and started walking toward the Head common room, unable to decide whether she was hoping Draco wouldn't be there... or in fact, whether he _would be_.

* * *

Hermione had just reached the entrance to the Head common room. It was a portrait, divided conspicuously into four sections. Each section housed one of the four founders of Hogwarts.

Godric Gryffindor was shown with a small smile and he was carrying a shield. His red background was illuminated.

Salazar Slytherin was shown with a cunning smirk, a serpent curled around his neck. His green background was also illuminated, when in contrast to the grinning portraits of Rowena Ravenclaw and Helga Hufflepuff. The people in the portraits were not moving.

"Password?" a voice came from somewhere.

Hermione felt slightly uneasy at the hidden voice.

"Um... _Veritaserum_," she spoke timidly.

The portrait door swung open, much to Hermione's fright. She stepped inside.

The common room was like a larger replica of the Head train compartment. The walls were still a regal purple colour, the carpet was a darker shade of off-white and the fire was roaring. Upon the mantelpiece of the fire there was a plaque, displaying Hermione and Malfoy's names against red, yellow, green and grey backgrounds. Hermione spotted two doors at opposite ends of the large room, one displaying the Gryffindor lion and the other one displaying the characteristic Slytherin serpent.

She trembled, despite the fire's warmth. She really _was_ the Head Girl. And she really _wasn't_ going to sleep in the girl's dormitory up in Gryffindor Tower anymore. _This_ was it.

Hermione opened the door of her room. She found that her luggage was already there. Her room was a soft pink colour, a nice complement to the white carpet and gold sheets. She smiled as she saw the headboard of her bed engraved elegantly with her own name, "Hermione Granger".

_Hermione Granger_. That's who she was. The smart _Mudblood_ who was not going to tolerate _any_ shit from Malfoy this year. Hermione smiled faintly.

Just then, she heard a melodious whistling coming from behind her. It sounded much like a cheerful bird, but it was coming from the Head common room. Hermione frowned perplexedly, and walked back into the common room, eager to investigate what was making the noise.

_I should have guessed_, Hermione rolled her eyes.

* * *

Draco hastily clambered out of the train compartment; he was _that_ keen to get away from Granger. He smoothed his hand over his hair as he searched through the crowd for his Slytherin cronies. He needed some distraction from the fear that was welling up inside him.

And yet... fear of _what_ exactly? _Granger_? But why should he, a privileged _pureblood_, harbour any feelings of fear for a stupid _Mudblood_?

_Because she isn't stupid_, a voice in Malfoy's head answered. _And because of those damn eyes..._

Draco shuddered against his resolve, desperately trying to make the haunting image in his brain disappear.

But horrific memories are never quick to leave a person's mind.

Draco had got satisfaction from taunting Hermione. From calling her a _Mudblood_. He smiled grimly. Yet the satisfaction was momentary. When he had seen those brown orbs filled with that fire... that distinct _electric blue_ fire...

Draco trembled again. He had been scared out of his wits; he had just felt so numb and cold. He felt like all the happiness in his life had been sucked out of him. Granger was like a damn Dementor! Only she was better eye candy...

Draco stopped in his stride. Why the _hell_ was he thinking of her _like that_?! _Stupid mind_, he cursed. Granger wasn't even beautiful. She wasn't. She was _not_.

Draco shook his head. He needed to skip the feast; he needed to get settled into the common room before Granger came. He dared not display his intense trepidation to the others. Especially to Granger herself.

* * *

Draco sneaked into the castle. _The best thing about being a Head is you don't have to worry about your luggage_, he thought. _Everything gets back to you in the end, somehow._

Draco wiped the moisture on his forehead, before ambling casually to the common room. Maybe _I'll take a shower to calm myself_, he thought.

When he reached the portrait at the entrance of the common room, he saluted Salazar Slytherin's picture, before uttering, "Veritaserum," with a smirk on his face.

He knew Granger had just _loved_ it when he told her the password. Sometimes even _he_ was taken away by his own genius.

* * *

"What the hell are _you_ doing here, Malfoy?" Hermione said sharply, finding Malfoy hunched over the table in the common room.

She was staggered at seeing Malfoy without any gel in his hair. He looked so much more... _human_. His damp hair was parted in the centre and reached his ears in a stylish undercut. His mouth was stretched in an impassive line. His grey-blue eyes were glistening blankly. Hermione felt herself redden, realising the idiocy of her question. Malfoy seemed to acknowledge her embarrassment, as he nodded curtly at her, and resumed his hunch over the table. _He didn't even make a move to insult me_, Hermione thought.

"Sorry," she muttered, slowly moving over to look at what Malfoy was doing.

Malfoy looked back at her, his eyes now filled with spite. He seemed to be daring her to come closer to him... and if she were to accept the dare, he looked as if he would hex her into oblivion...

Hermione stopped in her stride, and looked away from Malfoy's penetrating glare. The last thing she wanted was to disappear in those _beautiful _spheres...

"I suppose you found the room, then," Malfoy murmured coldly, turning his back to Hermione.

Hermione nodded, realising full well that Malfoy couldn't even see her. She felt a lump in her throat that had stopped her from speaking. But she didn't want Malfoy to sense her frailty.

"It wasn't _too_ hard," Hermione said simply. "Even for a pathetic _Mudblood_ like me."

Malfoy dropped the pen in his hand and Hermione heard it clatter on the wooden table. Hermione turned around and thought Malfoy was going to yell at her, but she was surprised to hear him _laugh_. She raised her eyebrows. Was Malfoy actually _amused _at her joke?

She saw Malfoy shake his head and pick up his pen again and continue writing. Hermione desperately wanted to see the expression on his face.

She strode over to the fire and hovered her hands above it. The heat spread through her body and she sighed quietly. She stared into the flames. They licked the hearth and sides of the fireplace intensely. The fire seemed to calm Hermione, rather than stir her up. It always had that effect on her.

"You know, I still can't believe they chose _you_ for Head Girl," Malfoy mumbled matter-of-factly.

The lack of sourness surprised Hermione, but his words cut deep into her heart. Purebloods like Malfoy would never appreciate the intelligence of muggle-born witches and wizards. Hermione knew that answering him would be futile, but that he would also see it as her weakness.

"And why the hell _can't_ you believe it?" Hermione replied coolly, turning to glare at Malfoy.

He was staring at her, his eyebrow raised.

"I would have thought the answer would be quite evident," Malfoy responded plainly. "Because _you_ are a stupid muggle, and therefore inferior to _me_ and therefore an _inadequate_ choice for Head Girl."

Hermione noted his substitution of 'muggle' for 'Mudblood'. Yet it did not appease her even the slightest.

"Oh, just _grow up_, for heaven's sake," Hermione snapped, her eyes beginning to tingle with moisture. "You know Malfoy, I was _actually_ looking forward to my last year at Hogwarts, but I know the year will be _useless_ with you being the Head Boy and all. If you can't stand me _that_ much, why the hell don't you just hand in your resignation right now and do us _both_ a favour?"

And with tears in her eyes, Hermione bolted out of the common room, heading for the library.

* * *

Draco became mesmerised by the fire. It looked so _dominant_ and _unyielding_, qualities he had always admired. And it also gave him a chance to shift his thoughts away from Granger.

_That wretched Mudblood_, he spat. _What the hell is she playing at, telling me to hand in my resignation?  
_

Draco kicked the purple wall, not caring for the accumulating pain in his foot. He ran his hands through his silver locks. He tried to imagine his father's reaction if he were to find out that Granger was Head Girl.

_He'd probably chuck a fit,_ Draco smirked. _That, and try to bribe the school governors into granting the position to Parkinson or some other Slytherin chick...  
_

Nevertheless, Draco did _not_ want Parkinson to be Head Girl. He'd had enough of her clinging and whining. And the shagging was getting monotonous. No, he wanted new blood to suck, new bruises to make. _New territories to mark.  
_

Yet Granger was _too_ low for him to stoop. True, she would be a great triumph, soiling the last standing purity in the year and all. But she was a _Mudblood_, and there were certain lines that one should not cross with them. They were beasts of burden, unworthy of attendance at wizarding schools. They would never _truly_ understand the wizarding way.

Draco sighed as he glanced over at the letter he was replying to on the desk. He was not looking forward to the rendezvous tomorrow. He willed himself not to think of the prospects of a new mission.

And he had an innate, strange feeling about his mission this time around.

* * *

****

**A/N:** Yo everyone how's it going? I hope you liked that chapter. You know, I'm not entirely sure whether the rating on this story is appropriate, can someone please tell me in their review if they think PG-13 is okay because I live in Australia and we don't have PG-13 here, we have other ratings and I would probably rate this fic M-15 in Australia. So anyways, I hope you liked that, the next chapter will include some plot (I suppose you might've guessed a bit of the plot from this chapter, even though I didn't think I left _too_ many hints) with hopefully an appearance from Ginny Weasley if I can fit it in (which I probably will). And I also started Malfoy's POV (yay!) here so please also tell me what you think of that. Thanks for reading, ta-ta oh and please **review**!


	6. Conspiracy

**Disclaimer:** _If you think I own the characters from the Harry Potter series, you have got to be kidding yourself. All I do is make the characters gnaw at each other and kiss. You get the idea._

**Title of Story: **When Darkness Catches the Light

**Summary:** Can two sworn enemies ever find true love in each other? What happens when a seductive mission comes along to prod them in the right direction? Draco/Hermione

**Rated:** PG-13 for language, angst descriptions and some sexual connotations.

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Six:** Conspiracy

_I don't mind spending everyday  
Out on your corner in the pouring rain  
Look for the girl with the broken smile  
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile  
And she will be loved  
--She Will Be Loved, Maroon 5_  
  
Hermione woke up that morning in the library.  
  
The sun had crept stealthily through the windows and its rays had landed directly onto her. The trees were swaying steadily with the cool breeze, their leaves making crackling noises as they crunched and collided with each other.  
  
Hermione yawned and rubbed her eyes. They had not prickled in a while, and she was grateful for that fact. The prickling had ached her so much, and it was not only a physical pain she felt but also an emotional and _internal_ pain. Like an implosion.  
  
Hermione scanned the room and it only then dawned on her that she was in the library. She widened her eyes as she alarmingly looked for Madam Pince. Yet Hermione had established a good rapport with Madam Pince over the past six years, so even if she was found in the library in its closing hours, she was confident of not having to cope with too much punishment.  
  
Hermione looked down at the table on which she had been sleeping. She had apparently been sleeping on a large book, open to the pages marked "_Permanent Hexes with Seemingly No Antidote_". Hermione smiled grimly as she pondered the subconscious reasoning as to why she had picked this particular book off the shelf.  
  
_Malfoy. That stupid prick._  
  
Hermione sighed.  
  
Malfoy had yet again called her a _muggle_ last night. But she was _not_ a _muggle_. She was a _witch_.  
  
_I am a witch_, Hermione reminded herself firmly.  
  
Hermione remembered the way Draco had mercilessly sneered at her. But why had it hurt her so much _now_, after all these years? _I should be immune to his abuse_, she mused.  
  
Nevertheless, Draco had not called her a _Mudblood_. She was surprised at this display of... _thoughtfulness_? Hermione knew for a fact that he had indeed _intentionally_ not used the word... but what was his purpose? That is to say, did he deliberately avoid using the word to stop her from getting _upset_?  
  
Hermione shook her head angrily at her own folly. _This is Malfoy we're talking about here!_ she reprimanded emphatically.  
  
Yet Hermione's thoughts were forced to disseminate as she saw Ginny Weasley come bouncing up to her, carrying pieces of toast spread generously with marmalade.  
  
"Your favourite," Ginny announced pompously, sitting down opposite Hermione on the long table.  
  
Hermione grinned appreciatively and began eating the sweet bread. It seemed to pacify her anxiety slightly.  
  
"Where were you last night, Hermione?" Ginny blurted out, her tone of voice mildly critical.  
  
Hermione surveyed her. Ginny's hair was not as a red as it used to be. It had lightened to a strawberry-blonde colour. Her freckles were still prominent but they only exemplified her natural beauty. Hermione opened her mouth to answer her, but stopped. Could Ginny be trusted?  
  
"Oh... I was just putting my stuff away in the common room, you know, making it feel like home," she lied, a fake smile on her face.  
  
Ginny raised an eyebrow mechanically. "Oh okay... I thought you were with Ron, but then he came to the Great Hall alone..."  
  
It was obvious to Hermione that Ginny was hoping to extract answers from her. Hermione sighed and stared intently at the grains of her toast.  
  
"He looked kind of upset," Ginny implored gently. "Do you know anything about that, Hermione?"  
  
Hermione turned away from Ginny's beady eye. She was not expecting this sort of interrogation so early in the morning.  
  
_So what were you expecting Hermione, the monster who scares all her friends away?_ a voice in her head accused.  
  
She shook her head, forgetting for an instance that Ginny was in the room. She chanced a glance back at Ginny, only to find evident lines of worry embedded on her face. Hermione felt her heart dip slightly, and the skin all over her body began prickling. She couldn't bare to see Ginny so vulnerable.  
  
"Well... er... um Ginny, I'm sorry I just have a really _bad_ headache at the moment," Hermione murmured, rubbing her temples.

Ginny's eyes widened and she placed a reassuring hand on Hermione's arm. Hermione looked up at Ginny, and found she had a weak smile on her face. The lines of worry were still prominent. Hermione returned the smile reluctantly. Her skin was still tingling uncomfortably.

"So... what's happening between you and Harry anyway?"  
  
Hermione's skin immediately stopped prickling and she audibly sighed in relief.  
  
"Well," Ginny said, her face starting to redden, "that's actually what I came here to talk about."

* * *

Draco woke up that morning, dread running through his very veins. Today was the day of the conference.  
  
He pulled the covers over himself stubbornly, trying to block out the sun from blinding him. He had stayed up late the previous night.  
  
Draco yawned and glanced at his watch._ 8.28am?!_  
  
"SHIT!" he bellowed hoarsely.  
  
He was twenty-eight minutes late for the meeting and he knew the Lord would show him no mercy. Draco trembled.

* * *

"You're late, Draco."  
  
Draco had just stepped into the isolated shack situated on the Hogwarts grounds. It was a mirage to all those not meant to see it, so there was a negligible likelihood of it being discovered.  
  
It was very dark on the inside, yet very spacious. The walls were constructed of a simple timber. He knew the Lord valued simplicity, for it was within simplicity and innocence that one could disguise extravagance. And indeed, conspirations.  
  
As soon as Draco entered the room, he realised he could not see a thing. It gave him a queasy and vulnerable feeling that he did not like at all. He hugged his robes fiercely.  
  
Draco shivered as the voice reached his ears. It made the hairs on his neck stand erect.  
  
"Forgive me, my Lord," he whispered, leaning in to kiss the pallid feet that protruded from the otherwise blackness of the room. "I request permission to cast the Lumos spell."  
  
"Permission denied," the voice hissed. It was very much akin to a snake's voice. "You _know_ I am not fond of the light, Draco."  
  
Draco nodded, despite knowing the Lord was unable to see his assent. But he was very wrong.  
  
"I assume you have received my correspondence," the voice spoke. It was not a question.  
  
Draco felt a lump grow steadily in his throat. "Of course, my Lord," he responded submissively. "What do you require of me?"  
  
The voice mangled into a harsh, cacophonous laugh. Draco raised his eyebrow slightly.  
  
"There is _no_ hurry, Draco," the voice whispered quietly, causing Draco to strain his ears to catch every word. "Though I suppose your _tardiness_ elicits some summarising of the mission. And you know what I mean by _summarising_," the voice added coolly,  
  
Draco did indeed know the meaning of the phrase. It meant he had to listen to everything the Lord said and he would not be allowed any defiance of the assignment. He would be coerced into accepting it, no matter what.  
  
"I congratulate you first on becoming Head Boy," the voice murmured, its tone devoid of any happy emotion. "It will be helpful to have you in such high standing when it comes to your mission."  
  
Draco nodded, finding yet again the same lump in his throat.  
  
"The target of your mission is the _Head Girl_, dear Draco," the voice spoke, amusement evident in its manner.  
  
Draco's eyes widened. "Why the hell would you want my mission to be about a _Mudblood_? It's not like I don't have enough to do this year alrea-"  
  
Draco sensed swift movement in the room and suddenly felt a stick poking into the nape of his neck.  
  
"Draco," the voice whispered menacingly. "I do not value _insolence_ in my clique. And if you wish to speak, remember to first ask permission-"the voice hissed this word.  
  
Draco nodded again. He felt a distinct coldness sweep his body, and the stick then withdrew.  
  
"There is some _inaccuracy_ in your last statement, dear Draco, but I wish not to speak of it now. Your target is one Hermione Anne Granger. You must see to it that you get _close_ to the girl, so that she trusts you. It will not be easy, Draco, I am informing you now. Yet I solemnly _believe_ you have the necessary talent and foresight to successfully complete this mission. And what _I_ believe is always _right_," the voice ended threateningly.  
  
"Why- I request permission to speak, my Lord," Draco said hastily.  
  
The voice laughed again, in the same dissonant fashion. "Permission granted."  
  
Draco nodded slowly. "Why is _she_ the target of our mission? Surely she is just another stupid mudblood hardly worthy of your _eminent_ attention?"  
  
The flattery did not seem to have the effect that Draco had desired.  
  
"_Draco_," the voice hissed, "perhaps it has _slipped_ your memory, so I will tell you once more, though I shall _not_ tolerate this kind of folly from you again. Everything I do, _every move I make_, has a reason behind it. Granger could be a valuable _addition_ to our order, if her talents are nurtured appropriately. She will be coming of age soon. So for now, you must obey my orders. _Is that understood_?"  
  
Draco nodded. "Request permission to speak."  
  
"Draco, you will _regret_ it if you waste my time. Permission granted."  
  
"I'm sorry my Lord," Draco muttered, "but by what means am I to follow to complete this mission?"  
  
The voice was then tinted with hilarity. "I have been often told of your... legendary _seductive skills_. Put them to some good use. Yet be careful, Granger may not respond to them at first. I would suggest a more gentle approach, if only at the beginning."  
  
Draco inwardly snorted. As if Granger would even resist his _lustrous hair_, _beautiful eyes_, _pouty lips_...  
  
They _all_ gave in, in the end. And Granger would be no exception.  
  
Draco bowed to show his obedience.  
  
"Do not fail me, Draco. The Heir of Slytherin does not tolerate mishaps or treason. You may go."

* * *

Draco stumbled out of the room, furiously rubbing his right upper arm.  
  
He was not looking forward to his mission.  
  
He had to seduce a... _thing_... like Granger?! Why the hell couldn't the bloody "_Heir of Slytherin_"have chosen Patil or Hawthorn or some other stupid-yet-good-looking chick like that for him to make his moves on? They would just fall like dominoes into his lap! But Granger... she was one _heck_ of a domino.  
  
She was too frigid and icy! _The Dark Lord might as well have asked me to nail jelly to a tree - at least it would have been more likely to go in my favour!_  
  
But getting Hermione to _trust_ him? They were like water and oil – things that just would _not_ go well together.  
  
Draco felt some of his confidence leave him as he entered the castle, walking toward the Head common room. It was not going to be easy, and the Lord knew it. Draco _knew_ He knew it.  
  
Draco shook his head vigorously. _This has got to be a dream... it has to be a dream...  
_  
But it wasn't a dream, Draco realised, as he painfully collided into his enemy.

* * *

"Spill," Hermione said gently, patting Ginny comfortingly on the arm.  
  
Ginny looked up from her robes and smiled faintly at Hermione. She looked like a guilty schoolgirl who had just broken the pottery vase in the art classroom.  
  
"Ginny, come on, it's not like you should be embarrassed about anything!" Hermione murmured.  
  
"Yeah, I know," Ginny muttered inaudibly, a smile coming to her face. "But it's just hard to explain Hermione..."  
  
"How about you start from the beginning then? That's normally a good place to start," Hermione winked.  
  
Ginny gave a nervous laugh. "Oh all right. I asked Harry out over the summer. He accepted. The end."  
  
Hermione raised her eyebrow at Ginny, but then shook her head.  
  
"I understand if you don't want to talk about it Gi-"  
  
"Oh Hermione, Harry is just _wonderful_!" Ginny gushed, interrupting Hermione's sentence. "We did _so_ much fun stuff on vacation, when he came over to The Burrow. And to think I _finally_ got together with my ultimate crush in the end! I think I'm in _love_! It's almost like a fairytale, isn't it Hermione?"  
  
Hermione started laughing at Ginny's enthusiasm. It was a great release for all her anxiety and anger. Ginny's eyes were glistening with happiness and Hermione felt so happy for her.  
  
"Yes, Ginny, it's _fantastic_ news," Hermione said, and she meant it.  
  
Ginny smiled broadly at Hermione. "I knew _you_ would understand Hermione."  
  
Hermione stared at her. "What do you mean, _understand_? Everything seems understandable enough to me."  
  
Ginny again looked down at her robes. She began twisting the frayed ends of her sleeve in her fingers. Hermione patiently waited for her to answer.  
  
"Well, _Ron_ has actually been, um, quite _angry_ me about me and Harry going out," Ginny mumbled. "I mean, it all kind of disappeared when he saw you, which is such a relief, but when Harry came over to The Burrow, he looked so lonely and irritable. That's why he sent a letter asking you to come over, but I guess you had too much going on eh?"  
  
Hermione looked up at Ginny in momentary surprise.  
  
"_Yeah, I did_," Hermione muttered softly, turning away from Ginny's innocent eyes.  
  
Ginny seemed to note Hermione's embarrassment. "_Hermione_," she murmured.  
  
"What?" Hermione answered sharply, turning back to face Ginny.  
  
Ginny had those same lines of worry on her face. "I'm _worried_ about you, Hermione. You're not acting like your usual self. If you need advice or someone to listen to, then why don't you just talk to me?"  
  
Hermione felt her eyes begin to faintly prickle. She felt an odd sense of rage begin to well up inside her.  
  
"_Ginny_!" she yelled. "I am _perfectly_ capable of looking after myself, okay, I don't need people policing me around or spying on me or insulting my intelligence or anything like that!"  
  
Ginny's eyes widened in shock, but then her face went red with anger.  
  
"I was only trying to _help_, Hermione, and _geez_, I never even said you were incapable of looking after yourself, I mean, you're the _last_ person in the world I would have thought to have problems that they couldn't deal with!"  
  
Hermione stood up from her chair, her eyes glinting. "See, it's people like _you_ who think I'm _perfect_ and I don't have feelings that can get hurt! Or there are also people that think I am so _delicate_ that I can't bloody fend for myself!"  
  
"Don't talk about my brother like that, Hermione!" Ginny shouted, her tone of voice hinted with menace. "He _loves_ you okay! We _all_ do! So stop acting like all of the world's problems are on your shoulders!"  
  
Hermione sat back down and buried her face in her hands. Her eyes were prickling violently. She began to sob audibly.  
  
"I'm... s-s-sorry... Ginny," she managed to stutter, looking up at Ginny.  
  
Ginny's eyes widened benevolently and she ran over to Hermione's side of the table and hugged her. "I _know_ you are, Hermione. And _never_ forget what I told you – we _all_ love and care about you, and the most one of us all being my brother. Remember that."

* * *

"Well, well... look who it is," a voice came from above Draco's head.  
  
Draco was sprawled on the floor, having fallen from the impact of the collision. He looked up to acknowledge the person who had spoken, and the ends of his mouth began curling into a smirk.  
  
"_Weasley_," he snarled, getting up from the floor. "What a surprise to find you here, at the Head common room. Looking for your _girlfriend_ or did you just come to steal some robes to out fit your poor family? I'm sorry, but I don't buy robes in _giant_ size." His eyes flickered over Weasley's tall frame.  
  
Weasley's eyes widened in anger, but he shook his head, evidently trying to calm himself.  
  
"Where is Hermione, Malfoy?"  
  
Draco leaned casually against the cement column in front of the common room.  
  
"What is it to _you_, Weasley? You know I could give you a _detention_ for being here, it is _strictly_ out of bounds to commoners."  
  
Weasley twisted his lips into an uncharacteristic scowl. "I'm _warning_ you Draco, if you lay so much as _one finger_ on my girl, I will see to it that you die a slow and painful death."  
  
Draco raised his eyebrow in mild amusement. "Surely you _jest_, Weasley? You suspect that a _pureblood_ like me would touch something as _nauseating_ as Granger? Yet the conditions you lay _are_ tempting... I would love to witness _how_ you plan to kill me... but it will have to wait for some other poor sap _desperate_ enough to touch your _slug_."  
  
Weasley tactlessly shoved his hand into his robes and pulled out his wand. Draco's eyes flickered to it.  
  
"_Fifty points from Gryffindor_, Weasley, for threatening the Heady Boy," Draco snapped, a smirk playing on his face.  
  
Weasley's eyes widened in fury and he jabbed his wand on the pulse on Draco's neck.  
  
"Don't tempt me, Malfoy," he growled brusquely.  
  
Draco pushed the wand away carelessly and smoothed his hand over his hair.  
  
"That will be _one hundred points_ from Gryffindor _and_ a detention if you do not move along," Draco whispered dangerously. "And don't tempt _me_ either, Weasley."  
  
And with that, Draco turned around and walked away, his robes fluttering gracefully behind him.

* * *

**A/N:** Hi everyone! Another chapter is up up up! I'm sorry this took me a few days to actually put on the website but I've been busy with school work and work and everything etc, but I hope that doesn't mean the quality of my story has gone down in any way coz that would be unfair to you ppls! thanks for telling me the rating was okay, I appreciate it! God you all are so nice,! Hehehe shameful flattery from me... no but I'm serious! Is Hermione a bit too OOC? Well if she is then can I just say its necesaary. For plot reasons, of course. Okay so, Next chapter will see Draco commencing his little mission smirk, against his will, of course. Please remember to review and thanks for reading so far! 


	7. And so it begins

**Disclaimer:** _JKR owns all of these characters even though I of course supplied the idea of Draco Malfoy to her. Of course I did. You better bloody believe it. And if you don't - thank you especially for noting the sarcasm._

**Title of Story: **When Darkness Catches the Light

**Summary:** Can two sworn enemies ever find true love in each other? What happens when a seductive mission comes along to prod them in the right direction? Draco/Hermione

**Rated:** PG-13 for language, angst descriptions and some sexual connotations.

* * *

**Chapter Seven:** And so it begins

_What's a girl like me to do  
When she don't get a thing from you  
I wanna go where you're going to  
Have to do what you have to do  
What's a girl supposed to try  
When all you do is criticise  
Pretty soon you'll realise  
I can see it, I can see it in a boy's eyes  
--See it in a Boy's Eyes, Jamelia_

Hermione left the library with Ginny, both hastily wiping their teary eyes.  
  
Hermione was glad that she had talked to Ginny. It seemed to have lightened her heart somehow. They had always been close, but sometimes Ginny's immaturity had irked Hermione.  
  
Hermione tied her hair into a messy bun on her head. She hated having her hair in her face all the time.  
  
She glanced at her watch and saw that it was 8:30am. They meant that she and Ginny had spent more than half an hour in the library! But the time had flown by so quickly.  
  
Hermione smiled faintly when she heard Ginny's words resound in her head.  
  
_...We all love you... remember that..._  
  
Hermione had forgotten about the support her friends had given her over the years. They had helped her through some of her toughest times, and she was more than appreciative for that.  
  
Hermione cursed herself for being so rude to them. They definitely did _not_ deserve having her go off at them at any given moment for no apparent reason.  
  
She made a mental note to be nicer to them, but then stopped in her stride. Why did she have to _make_ a note of it? Shouldn't it come to her naturally by now?  
  
"Hermione, are you okay?" Ginny said worryingly, seeing Hermione stop walking.  
  
Hermione glanced at her and gave her a reassuring nod, before resuming her brisk stride. She could not bring herself to lie again, for she hated being so two-faced to one of her best friends. And she felt she had donned enough faces for one day.

* * *

Draco woke up that morning with a smirk on his face. He had slept relatively well that night. He was pleased with his little rendezvous with Weasley. It had amused him, the way Weasley's ears had reddened with embarrassment and the reckless threats he had issued. Draco chortled pensively. It was a good escape from reality; perhaps more specifically, a distraction from the moment when he had thought that the whole world had mutinied against him.  
  
When he found out he had to get Granger to trust him.  
  
Draco trembled involuntarily and pulled the covers tightly over his head. He couldn't help but wonder whether the Dark Lord could see his weakness now...  
  
_No_, Draco told himself firmly. _Don't think stupid things like that.  
_  
But was the thought really _so_ stupid?  
  
Draco remembered the time his father had come home once, drunk and depressed from the Death Eaters conference. Apparently Potter had once again foiled one of the Dark Lord's malicious schemes...  
  
_Boy, was Father petrified!_ Draco thought, remembering the pained look on his father's face.  
  
He recalled his father saying that even after enduring all the agony in his life, his Master's Cruciatus Curse could still find its place to injure him.  
  
The thought did nothing to alleviate Draco's stress, as he realised that his mission was going to be far from easy.  
  
He didn't even know where to start! What would Granger think if, all of a sudden, after six years of vicious banter, he were to suddenly entice her with sweet words?  
  
_I would be bloody confused if I were her_, Draco growled.  
  
He shook his head. _I'm not going to do the mission_, he thought steadfastly. _I won't compromise my morals, even for the bloody 'Heir of Slytherin'._  
  
But as soon as the thought entered his mind, another voice reverberated in his head, like a sort of rancorous reminder.  
  
_...The Heir of Slytherin does not tolerate mishaps or treason..._  
  
Draco shivered. He did not want to be tortured like his father.  
  
He got up from the bed and started smoothing the sheets out. Surprisingly, creases always irritated him. Draco brushed them out furiously, and failed to realise that he was in truth making even more crinkles in the sheets.  
  
He sighed as he realised that making the bed in such a way was fruitless and he plopped back down on it. His head was pounding relentlessly and he scratched his hair frantically in his vehemence.  
  
He didn't even know _why_ he felt so angry, even after grabbing all that delicious food from the Head kitchen and having that comical fight with Weasley.  
  
Draco felt a squirm in his stomach. What would his friends think of his _'newfound attention'_ towards Granger? He would never hear the end of all their teasing and insults. He wasn't as strong as everybody thought he was...  
  
_I'm a bloody human too_, Draco snarled.  
  
_And all humans can get hurt_, another voice in his head reminded him.  
  
Draco's skin went pallid as he contemplated what the Dark Lord would do if he were to not complete the full terms of the mission...  
  
Draco shuddered, and then his face suddenly hardened. So what if he was going to be subject to ridicule from the Slytherins? He should feel _honoured_ to have been chosen by the Dark Lord _himself_ to carry out the important operation!  
  
He glanced around the room and noted that it was in a state of complete and utter disarray  
  
_I really need to get my old maid Pansy up here some time,_ he chucklde, a cruel smirk playing on his face.  
  
He knew he would never impress Granger with a messy room.

* * *

"Hey Hermione," Harry said, pulling up chairs on either side of him for the two girls to sit on.  
  
He was dressed neatly in his robes and his hair had been subtly spiked with a small amount of gel. He was clearly happy to see Hermione, and Hermione couldn't resist returning his smile. Harry had always been so good to her.  
  
"Hi Harry," Hermione murmured, sitting on the chair to the left of Harry.  
  
Ginny bent down to kiss Harry on the cheek.  
  
"_Hey cutie_," she teased, taking her seat on Harry's right.  
  
Hermione heard a cringe somewhere at the table, but her gaze was fixed on Harry, who went an evident shade of scarlet and muttered a soft, "_Hey_," before picking at the sausages on his plate.  
  
"Eurgh you _pig_!" Ginny exclaimed in mock disgust. "How can you eat all that fat in the morning? You know where it'll all go," she said, lightly patting Harry's stomach.  
  
Harry grimaced.  
  
Hermione noted his sour facial expression. It didn't seem archetypal of him... but why had she suddenly felt a squirm in her stomach at the sight of it?  
  
Hermione shook her head a little too vigorously.  
  
"Aw Ginny, let him eat," she muttered, sipping some of her coffee.  
  
Ginny laughed. "You sound like my mother," she said mid-giggle.  
  
Hermione saw Harry glance her way, almost wincingly. She raised her eyebrow at him and he hastily turned away from her.  
  
Hermione glanced around the Gryffindor table.  
  
There was Parvati Patil, looking ditsy as usual... and then there were Seamus and Dean, both of them engaged in gesticulated conversation... and there was Lavender sitting right across from Harry, her face an odd shade of crimson and her eyes resolutely gazing at the omelette on her plate...  
  
_But where was Ron?_ Hermione felt a nervous wriggle in her stomach.  
  
Was he still upset at her for withdrawing away from him? Or was there _another_ reason...?  
  
Harry seemed to have read her thoughts.  
  
"Ron's at the library," he said shortly, his eyes not exactly meeting Hermione's.  
  
Hermione raised her eyebrow. "Really? But we just came from the library and we didn't see him..."  
  
Harry coughed somewhat deliberately. "Oh really? Well maybe he just, well, decided to get some, you know, food and stuff from the houselves... I mean, _you_ know how his appetite is..." he gave her a brief wink and looked back at his plate.  
  
"Um, Harry," she muttered, "he doesn't really need to go to the houselves to get food now, it's breakfast time..."  
  
Harry flinched. "I _don't know_ where he is then, Hermione," he said very sharply, his tone of voice hinted with finality.  
  
Hermione felt a peculiar sense of resentment well up inside her.  
  
"Yeah well, I didn't exactly _ask_ you to tell me where he was in the first place, now did I?" she responded scornfully.  
  
Harry raised his eyebrow at her, glanced momentarily ahead of where he was sitting and then his expression seemed to somewhat soften.  
  
"Yeah, sorry _'Mione_, just thought you wanted to know," he muttered, taking a quick swig of his pumpkin juice.  
  
Hermione felt another flame ignite inside of her.  
  
"What the hell is _'Mione_?" she exclaimed dangerously, her eyebrows fused together.  
  
Harry reddened slightly, but the determined look in his eyes did not fade. Hermione felt herself admiring those magnificent green eyes... they seemed to be so _alluring _and _mystical_... they seemed to be strangely morphing into an intense, _silver_ colour...  
  
"Er, Hermione?" Harry ventured timidly.  
  
Hermione shook her head out of her gaze. "Wha-what is it, _Drarry_?"  
  
Harry's eyes widened. "_What_ did you just call me, Hermione?"  
  
Hermione felt herself go red. "What _are_ you going on about? Oh hey, I haven't even checked my timetable yet, have I...?"  
  
She looked down in her bag and began fumbling around in it distractedly, looking for the timetable that she knew wasn't even there, when she saw a freckled hand holding a timetable in front of her bowed head.

* * *

Draco ambled pretentiously over to the shower in his room.  
  
It seemed elegant from inside, its walls a tiled jade-green colour. He smirked fleetingly at the colour and turned on the tap.  
  
The water seemed to cascade down his body flawlessly, every inch of skin being drenched with moisture. Draco sighed as the heat transferred agreeably to his body, his senses calmed and eyes closed in grateful assent.  
  
He knew he had to tidy himself up properly today. He realised that Granger would probably find him more attractive if he were neat and immaculate, rather than if he were to adopt the whole grungy, heavy metal image that most girls would drool over.  
  
_I can execute both impressions perfectly_, he thought haughtily.  
  
He soaped himself thoroughly, washed the soap off and stepped out of the shower. The room was eerily silent now, devoid of the sounds of running water.  
  
Draco shivered as he wrapped a black towel lazily across his lean waist and stood in front of the large mirror. He smirked arrogantly, studying his toned muscles and damp hair. He knew he was simply _irresistible_.  
  
Draco thought that he should cut his hair, that only then would he probably come across as being intellectual to Granger. He picked up his wand, on the intent of casting a spell to neatly style his hair, but then decided against it.  
  
_Even a girl like Granger doesn't deserve me chopping off my precious hair_, he snarled, throwing his wand onto the bed.  
  
Draco starting walking over to his black robes, but then stopped in his stride.  
  
"What the hell was I thinking, '_even_ a girl like Granger'?" he growled audibly, realising the folly of his thoughts.  
  
He shook his head and resumed walking, gracefully slipping into his robes and deliberately not wearing a shirt underneath. He didn't want Granger to miss _that_ particular spectacle.  
  
Draco chuckled to himself, a chuckle that would be enough to make any girl swoon over him, and he knew it.  
  
It was true that he had reservations of carrying out the assignment, but an amalgamation of the pain the Dark Lord could inflict upon him, the fact that this would all be an amusing farce _anyway_ and the satisfying thought that he would break Granger's heart in the end had convinced Draco that the mission could actually be a blessing in disguise. It was all about _perception_.  
  
He idly glanced over his timetable and a malicious smile spread across his face.  
  
"_Perfect_," he murmured mercilessly.

* * *

Hermione looked up to see that it was Ron who was holding her timetable. Only he was looking away from her.  
  
"Thanks," Hermione said hesitantly, taking the timetable away from him.  
  
He nodded curtly and turned around, taking a seat next to Ginny. Harry glanced suspiciously over at Hermione, giving her a swift, searching look but she turned away hastily, absent-mindedly tilting her coffee mug from side to side, ignoring the clattering noise it was making as it collided with the spoon inside.  
  
Hermione was so remorseful for getting angry with Ron. He had always been so nice to her, and even when he was upset at her he even took time out to get her _timetable_ for her.  
  
She thought back to the reason as to why she had gotten mad in the first place.  
  
_Ahh_, she thought dryly, the memory returning to her.  
  
Ron had wanted to endanger Malfoy's Headship prospects. It had been a harmless joke, Hermione knew that now, but why had it irked her _so much_ at the time?  
  
Hermione stole a quick look over at Ron. He was staring at his empty plate in an unwavering gaze, while Ginny was talking animatedly to him. He murmured his indifferent assent every now and then at what his sister was saying.  
  
Harry was still eating sausages, the thick chunks of meat entering his mouth in a quick cycle. Hermione raised her eyebrow disgustedly at him, but didn't feel like saying anything. Harry was acting pretty weird today, and she had absolutely no idea why.  
  
Hermione placed her mug down firmly on the sturdy wooden table and undid the messy bun of her hair. She let her hair fall down, reaching well below her shoulders and sighed. She didn't feel like dressing up today at all...  
  
_Not even for Malfoy, eh?_ a sly voice spoke in her head.  
  
She frowned at the thought. Why the hell would she want to dress up for _Malfoy_? It's _not like I have to outdo him even in appearance,_ Hermione thought wryly, smiling faintly at the thought that she had _always_ beaten Malfoy in _every_ subject.  
  
_You know what I mean, Hermione_, the same voice spoke.  
  
"Hermione, are you even _listening_ to me?"  
  
Hermione hastily looked over at Ginny, who was surveying her with a raised eyebrow.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry Ginny, what were you saying?"  
  
Ginny sighed long-sufferingly. "Well I was just asking you what lesson you had first up today, because apparently this year some classes you have are joint classes with sixth years."  
  
Hermione nodded, thought she didn't fully comprehend what Ginny was saying. Her thoughts were still far away, on a certain blonde rebel...  
  
"_Dammit_, Hermione, what the _hell_ is wrong with you?" Ginny exclaimed impatiently.  
  
Ron looked up at Ginny, his face palpably red with fury. "Don't talk to her like that, Ginny, she's obviously busy thinking about something, alright? Just _drop_ it."  
  
Hermione raised her eyebrow slightly at him. She knew she should ideally be thankful to Ron that he had defended her, but strangely enough... she was actually _irritated_ by his loyalty...  
  
"Ron, I can take care of myself okay?" she said, forcing a tone of evenness in her voice.  
  
Ron looked at her automatically, but quickly changed the direction of his attention. "I know," was all that he managed to utter.  
  
Hermione felt a rush of penitence inside of her. How could she have been so _capricious_? How could she have acted without _thinking_ like that? How could she have behaved in a manner so completely _uncharacteristic_ of herself?  
  
"Yeah so as I was saying," Ginny coughed. "_Er_... oh yeah, Hermione, can you check your timetable and tell me what classes you have before lunch?"  
  
Hermione scuffled the timetable around, hoping the noise would drown out the sense of guilt that she now felt so deeply inside of her.  
  
She scowled as she glanced at her first lesson.  
  
"_Advanced Potions_, with Slytherin house," Hermione groaned.  
  
Ginny laughed. "First class where the Head Girl and the Head Boy are together, eh? What a _coincidence_..." she finished, a smirk on her face.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes at Ginny's puerility. She felt another pang of anger within her.  
  
"Oh yeah, that _git_ hasn't given you any trouble yet, I hope?" Harry interrupted, his tone hinted with menace.  
  
Hermione glared at him and opened her mouth to speak, but it was Ron who spoke instead.  
  
"Harry, she can look after herself, leave her _alone_," Ron muttered sharply, his eyes still fixed on his empty plate.  
  
Hermione felt a sharp twang of antagonism.  
  
"Oh, so I guess I can _look after_ myself well, but I just can't _speak_ for myself, is that it?" she said loudly.  
  
Ron stood up abruptly from the table and marched off, not bothering to answer Hermione.  
  
"Good one, _Hermione_," Ginny said coldly, her eyes filling with tears.  
  
She followed behind Ron, running to catch up with him.  
  
Hermione fumingly walked off in the opposite direction, not pausing to look behind and catch the bewildered look on all the faces at the Gryffindor table.

* * *

Hermione had never felt the regret that had consumed her at that very moment, as she started walking to the Potions dungeons.  
  
Her face was tear streaked and her hair fell messily into her face, but at that moment she didn't particularly care.  
  
She hated herself for being so blunt with Ron. It had not been her true intention, _really_; she had just felt like another person had taken over her conscience at the time.  
  
She trembled at the uneasy thought, the notion that she could no longer control her emotions and anger.  
  
Hermione furiously pulled her hair back and tried to plait it as best she could and secured it with a grubby, yellow hair tie. She couldn't care less about the chaotic state she was in. She felt like she didn't care about anything _at all_. It was a seemingly good feeling.  
  
Hermione felt a pang of guilt as she remembered the way Ron had avoided eye contact with her.  
  
_What could he possibly be afraid of?_  
  
_You, Hermione_, a voice arraigned in her head.  
  
Hermione shook her head out of the thought and quickened her pace toward the dungeon. The last thing she wanted was to be late for class.  
  
_That'd just be the cherry to top off this brilliant day_, she thought sardonically.  
  
But before she knew it, her hand was grabbed roughly and she was pulled into a nearby opening in the wall.

* * *

"Ron, you have _got_ to stop doing this! I don't want to be late for potions with that _sadistic_ Snape, you know that bastard's got it in for me," she hissed, realising that she had been abducted into a broom closet.  
  
It was extremely dark inside, but she knew the action was characteristic of Ron. She felt a swift movement in the room, and it seemed to make her somewhat edgy.  
  
"You know Granger, I'm sure Professor Snape would be interested to hear your _fascinating_ opinion of him. I'm shocked that the _perfect, respectable_ Miss Hermione Granger would ever say the words '_Snape'_ and _'bastard'_ in the same sentence. It's simply _remarkable_."  
  
Hermione's heart dipped as she recognised the owner of the cold drawl. She felt dread fill her very veins.  
  
"_Lumos_!" the voice commanded lazily.  
  
The spell was surprisingly intense, and the room was efficiently illuminated, only to reveal a smirking Draco Malfoy, leaning proudly against the wooden cabinet in the broom closet.  
  
A few of the buttons on his robe were left undone, and Hermione caught a glimpse of his toned stomach. She felt herself go red, and she hastily turned away before Malfoy could see her childishness.  
  
"You might want to cover up yourself, before I throw up in disgust all over you," Hermione snarled coldly, her eyes not exactly meeting Malfoy's.  
  
Malfoy chuckled seductively and Hermione felt her breath hitch.  
  
"Oh, I'm positive the food you've eaten has _already_ been digested by now," he whispered, making Hermione reflexively move closer to him so she could catch every word. "And there's also the fact that it's getting very _hot_ in here. Can you feel it, Granger?"  
  
Hermione shuffled uncomfortably, turning away from Malfoy's penetrating gaze. She did not want to lose herself in his bright grey orbs...  
  
"_Relax_, Granger," Malfoy continued. "You're not _afraid_ of me now, are you?"  
  
Hermione felt a pang of anger inside of her and she looked up at Malfoy in defiance, her eyes evidently communicating the loathing she felt for him.  
  
"And why should I be afraid of a _ferret_ like you?"  
  
Malfoy lunged forward at Hermione and poked his long, slim wand on the pulse of her neck. Hermione closed her eyes submissively, for fear that he might hex her.  
  
"Apologise, _bitch_," Malfoy snarled coldly.  
  
Hermione opened her eyes and narrowed her eyebrows at Malfoy. He suddenly withdrew his wand, as if on a whim, and chuckled quietly.  
  
"You're very _charming_, Granger. _Very_ charming indeed."  
  
Hermione massaged her slender neck, but her eyes never left Malfoy's own.  
  
"I wish I could say the same about you, Malfoy. Yet I do admire your tactfulness," she murmured, the sarcasm evident in her tone.  
  
Malfoy's eyes widened in malice, but he took a deep breath in and smiled at Hermione.  
  
Hermione nearly gasped. He was actually _smiling_? No, it most definitely was not a smirk, nor a grimace, nor a snarl... no, it was a _smile_. And his eyes seemed to sparkle with joy too.  
  
Malfoy stepped forward and undid Hermione's plait at the back of her head and threw the yellow tie on the floor. His warm breath tickled Hermione's ear, as he leaned over her shoulder gracefully. He let her chocolate-brown hair cascade elegantly down her back and he used his lean, pale fingers to separate the strands and frame Hermione's face.  
  
Hermione felt her heart pounding inexorably against her chest, but she was nevertheless bewildered at Malfoy's gentle actions.  
  
He stepped back and gave Hermione another smile that made her stomach squirm bizarrely.  
  
"You should wear your hair like _that_, Granger, it suits your face better. Oh and allow yourself a _little_ self-respect and don't use a Hufflepuff coloured hair tie in your hair. For your own sake, you know."  
  
Hermione raised an eyebrow at him in confusion. Why was he acting so _gentlemanly_?  
  
She shot Malfoy another look of pure hatred and bent down to pick up the yellow hair tie and messily redid her hair in the same plait, her eyes never straying from Malfoy's own.  
  
Malfoy's lips were fixed in a smile, but when he saw Hermione redo her hair, the corner of his lips twitched and his eyes became guarded once again. Hermione thought she saw them glint with spite momentarily.  
  
"Thanks for the advice, but I'm _pretty sure_ I know how to dress myself," she responded callously.  
  
Malfoy nodded curtly at her and smoothed his hand over his hair and then stopped in the middle of the action and dropped his hand to the side of his body.  
  
"Yeah so anyway," Hermione murmured, wondering why Malfoy desisted with his characteristic action, "why the _hell_ did you pull me in this closet anyway? There must be a good reason, because I know you wouldn't soil your faultless pureblood hands by touching a dirty _Mudblood_ like me."  
  
Malfoy smirked at her, amusement apparent in his facial features.  
  
"I would have thought a clever witch like you would have figured that out by now," he said simply.  
  
Hermione raised an eyebrow at the word '_witch'_. Malfoy definitely wanted something from her; otherwise he wouldn't bother being civil. But what exactly _did_ he want?  
  
Hermione found him perplexing. He had money, enough fame for being the son of a notorious wizard, good looks...  
  
_So what does he want from a 'Mudblood' like me?_  
  
Then it suddenly dawned on her, and she felt a smirk playing on her own face.  
  
"Look, I know you have a _major_ crush on Parvati, but even if you flatter me, it doesn't mean I'm going to help you get her," Hermione snarled coolly, but she was happy at accurately discerning the sexist intentions of the playboy standing in front of her.  
  
Malfoy laughed mirthlessly and Hermione suddenly felt wary as the cold laughter filtered through her body, chilling her very bones...  
  
"Cut me _some_ slack, Granger, "he said, wiping a fake tear of laughter from his eyes. "I'm not _desperate_ enough to get help from a Mud-_witch_ like you, purely to slake my own non-platonic pursuits."  
  
He chuckled at his own joke and again moved to smooth his hair, but this time he reached all the way back, near the nape of his neck before he hastily pulled his hand away.  
  
Hermione felt her lip twitch irritably.  
  
"Okay, so if we're done here, I'd like to go now to my Potions class," she said coldly, placing her hand on the knob of the closet door.  
  
She turned the knob and then felt another hand over her own, turning the knob in the opposite direction. Hermione felt faint rays of electricity go up her hand.  
  
"You seem to have forgotten, but I'm in the _same_ Advanced Potions class as you," Malfoy said, quickly withdrawing his hand and then looking slightly regretful for pulling his hand away so rapidly.  
  
Hermione raised her eyebrow at his facial expression, but then shook her head. "That's exactly _why_ I want to go now, so that if we go late to class together, I _won't_ be put in the same detention as you. Not that Snape would ever give _you_ a detention," she added as an afterthought.  
  
Malfoy chuckled seductively, shook his head vaguely and opened the door of the closet.  
  
"Point taken. After you," he said gently, allowing her to go out in front of him.  
  
Hermione groaned angrily and stomped out of the closet, further annoyed when she heard Malfoy laughing behind her.

* * *

Draco shook his head in mirth and shut the broom closet door behind him.  
  
The meeting with Granger had gone off well enough. It had been more _spontaneous_ than he would have hoped for and he was sure that he had kindled some feeling of _confusion_ within Granger; exactly what he had wanted to do.  
  
Draco knew that her astute mind would now contemplate the broom closet incident over and _over_ again, and if he were to be exceedingly lucky, she may even confront _him_ first about it.  
  
Draco grimaced as he remembered how his inherent feelings of repulsion had come through when he had touched Granger's hand on the door knob... and how he had called her a _'bitch'_...  
  
Nevertheless, he now knew that it was all probably for the best, as his insults would most likely befuddle Granger even further...  
  
Draco chuckled to himself, as he began walking toward the Potions class.  
  
He remembered the moment where he had let Granger's hair fall loose around her face. Draco admitted to himself that it had took a lot of courage... a lot of _'un-Slytherin'_ courage... for him to leap forward toward her like that... but he had to marvel at his own genius, for when he said that she looked better with her hair down, he had genuinely _meant it_...  
  
But it had irked him severely the way Granger had stubbornly pulled her hair back once more. No other girl would have ever _dared_ to do that to him... they would have _loved_ that Draco himself had combed their hair with his _delectable_ fingers...  
  
Draco shook his head stubbornly, an odd fury accumulating within him directed at Granger. Her hateful gaze reserved only for him, the way that her eyes conveyed messages of abhorrence toward him... those beautiful, innocent brown spheres... filled with anger aimed solely at him....  
  
_Why the hell am I doing this damn mission?_ Draco thought furiously.  
  
He knew the task would prove unrewarding in the end.  
  
_So why the hell am I trying?_  
  
Draco quickened his pace, knowing that the dungeons were a relatively long way away. And he did not want to prolong his negative thoughts.  
  
But the thought of why he was indeed doing the mission was nagging at him. He couldn't help but wonder if the reason was Granger _herself_...  
  
Draco groaned loudly at his own weakness and scratched his spiked hair furiously, desperate to shift his thoughts away from the attractive brunette...  
  
Maybe the reason he was performing the duty was that he was a _Malfoy_. And Malfoys were _never_ ones to step down from a challenge... no matter how _impossible_ the challenge were to be...  
  
Draco smirked, remembering his own impressive heritage. He was sure his own blood had _never_ been... _tainted_... by muggles. And that's why he was so proud to be a Malfoy. But it was also the reason why he had found this mission so damn _difficult_.  
  
He winced at the thought of seeing his father's reaction to the mission... he would most certainly go ahead and ruminate the details of the mission over with the Dark Lord...  
  
_Father knows I am impressionable_, Draco brooded.  
  
He kicked the concrete wall of the corridor leading down to the dungeons in his wrath. Draco hated himself for being so pliable, once his walls were overcome.  
  
He knew that his father would most definitely deem his only son susceptible to... even _fall_ for a pathetic _Mudblood_...  
  
Draco felt his face harden. He would _not_ let it happen. He would _not_ allow his father's preconceived notions to reign.  
  
Draco smoothed his hand over his hair and sighed contentedly. He had no qualms about completing the action now, as he knew Granger wasn't around to get annoyed by it. And that was the _last thing_ he would have wanted to happen...  
  
Draco smirked ponderingly as he reminisced about the good old days...  
  
He and Granger's constant exchange of quick repartee had always been amusing. It was what he admired most about Granger; her ability to return his snide comments with _equally_ promising argument.  
  
_And to not completely fall in love with my looks_, Draco thought meditatively.  
  
The attention he got from the opposite sex had got wearisome over the years. They would always fall straight into his lap, tend to his every whim and shower him with copious amounts of nauseating affection.  
  
But Granger never seemed to follow the lead of the other girls. She was like a breath of fresh air... and despite his inherent reservations, Draco found himself suffocating, desiring _more_ of that air...  
  
He stopped mid-stride and slapped his own forehead furiously. Why was he thinking like _that_? This was just a _stupid mission_... and he was a _Malfoy_... he could handle the pressure...  
  
And it was this thought that sustained him through another tedious Advanced Potions class.

* * *

Hermione was grateful to finally emerge from the dungeons.  
  
She had purposely avoided eye contact with Malfoy. Hermione had kept her eyes set straight ahead on the instructions to make the intricate _Halya Potion_, used to obscure one's face from outside view. It worked similar to the invisibility cloak, but it was highly complex to make and even one minor mistake could result in fatal disfigurement.  
  
She smiled as she remembered how her potion was one of the few to turn into the desired, distinct _acid green_ colour. She knew she would _at least_ receive a pass from her least favourite teacher.  
  
Hermione had sometimes _regretted_ choosing Advanced Potions for her final few years at Hogwarts. She had always liked the _subject_, there was no doubt about that... but the fact that she was the only Gryffindor in the class and that her teacher was none other than the notorious Snape had often reduced her to tears or to battle a crushed self-esteem.  
  
She quickened her pace, hoping that the thoughts she had been resolutely trying to avoid deliberating over would finally disappear from her mind.  
  
Yet it seemed that the enhancement of speed proved _futile_.  
  
Hermione had been so confused during the entire class; it was _remarkable_ that she had actually managed to successfully brew her potion.  
  
The meeting with Malfoy seemed to have tied her whole brain into a tenuous knot. She could not stop thinking about the way he had grabbed her... the way he had let her hair down... the way he had let her go through the door first...  
  
It all just seemed so puzzling and incongruous. His shameless flattery had done _nothing_ to appease her; her mind was more so transfixed on his body language... his _insults_...  
  
One minute he had acted the refined gentleman, the next minute he had called her a _bitch_!  
  
_What the hell is wrong with him?_ Hermione could not help thinking.  
  
Hermione scratched her head absent-mindedly and pulled her bag over her shoulders more securely. She gripped the straps edgily, as if extracting some feeling of sanctuary from them.  
  
She did not like the way Malfoy kept smiling at her. Normally she would have been charmed if any other boy were to grin at her like that. But it just seemed so bizarre coming from Malfoy. So atypical... almost _eerie_...  
  
And what the _hell_ was with Malfoy pointing his wand at her but then quickly putting it away? Why didn't he hex her? Of course, Hermione was _relieved_, but perplexed nevertheless at his gallantry. And why did he keep smoothing his hair with his hand and then hastily desisting the action? Hermione felt a mild migraine coming over her.  
  
Hermione also did not like that queasy feeling in her stomach whenever Malfoy was around her. It was not pronounced, but it was definitely noticeable. She had only ever felt that way about Ron, and that was a _very_ long time ago...  
  
Hermione winced as she remembered how she had been so rude to Ron. She desperately wanted to apologise, to let him know that she did care about him... if only in a _platonic_ way.  
  
But if truth were to be told, sometimes she did feel like she was in love with Ron. Those intense moments when they were engaged in passionate kisses had rendered her both breathless and confident of her profound love for Ron.  
  
And of course, a victim to the usual _prickling_ that ensued.  
  
Hermione's mind was plagued by the possibility of another episode of prickling. It was becoming _unbearable_, the internal pain that she felt sometimes. She sometimes felt like she would _explode_ any second...  
  
"Hermione?"  
  
Hermione turned around and came face to face with Ron, standing a few feet away from her, looking sheepishly at his scuffed leather shoes. Hermione felt a slight squirm in her stomach.  
  
"_Ron_!" she exclaimed in relief, running over to embrace him, but she then stopped in her stride.  
  
Would it have been appropriate to hug him _now_?  
  
Hermione had a quick battle with her conscience and then leapt forward to embrace Ron, to bring him closer to her, for him to claim every inch of her skin as his own... for his warmth to spread over her...  
  
Ron's hands hung limply at his side, but Hermione then felt him wrap his arms hungrily around her back, and he sighed.  
  
"I've missed you _so much_ Hermione," he whispered huskily, his warm breath tickling her ear.  
  
Hermione never wanted to let go of him. She loved the secure feeling she attained from being in Ron's large frame. She never wanted him to let go of her... _ever_...  
  
"I'm so sorry, Ron," Hermione murmured, her face buried in Ron's broad chest.  
  
She looked up to face Ron's eyes, gazing down at her in desire and warmth. Hermione didn't mind Ron seeing the evident tears in her eyes... God, she was just so _damn_ sorry...  
  
Ron gently thumbed her now freely running tears away and rubbed her back reassuringly.  
  
"Don't be, Hermione, I know how hard things are for you," Ron responded encouragingly, smoothing the dangling strands of hair away from Hermione's moist face.  
  
Hermione captured Ron's mouth in a kiss, pulling his head desperately toward her to sate her growing desire for him and his warmth. Ron bent down, somewhat awkwardly, and their tongues engaged in a fierce and passionate skirmish, with Ron winning in the end. The warmth was transferring rapidly from Ron to Hermione, and she felt every part of her absorbing the addictive heat. Hermione felt her knees go weak and she withdrew from the kiss for air, breathing heavily and leaning onto Ron for support.  
  
"I hate fighting with you, Ron," Hermione whispered. "I just love you so much."

* * *

**Chapter Seven:** And so it begins  
  
Hermione left the library with Ginny, both hastily wiping their teary eyes.  
  
Hermione was glad that she had talked to Ginny. It seemed to have lightened her heart somehow. They had always been close, but sometimes Ginny's immaturity had irked Hermione.  
  
Hermione tied her hair into a messy bun on her head. She hated having her hair in her face all the time.  
  
She glanced at her watch and saw that it was 8:30am. They meant that she and Ginny had spent more than half an hour in the library! But the time had flown by so quickly.  
  
Hermione smiled faintly when she heard Ginny's words resound in her head.  
  
_...We all love you... remember that..._  
  
Hermione had forgotten about the support her friends had given her over the years. They had helped her through some of her toughest times, and she was more than appreciative for that.  
  
Hermione cursed herself for being so rude to them. They definitely did _not_ deserve having her go off at them at any given moment for no apparent reason.  
  
She made a mental note to be nicer to them, but then stopped in her stride. Why did she have to _make_ a note of it? Shouldn't it come to her naturally by now?  
  
"Hermione, are you okay?" Ginny said worryingly, seeing Hermione stop walking.  
  
Hermione glanced at her and gave her a reassuring nod, before resuming her brisk stride. She could not bring herself to lie again, for she hated being so two-faced to one of her best friends. And she felt she had donned enough faces for one day.

* * *

Draco woke up that morning with a smirk on his face. He had slept relatively well that night. He was pleased with his little rendezvous with Weasley. It had amused him, the way Weasley's ears had reddened with embarrassment and the reckless threats he had issued. Draco chortled pensively. It was a good escape from reality; perhaps more specifically, a distraction from the moment when he had thought that the whole world had mutinied against him.  
  
When he found out he had to get Granger to trust him.  
  
Draco trembled involuntarily and pulled the covers tightly over his head. He couldn't help but wonder whether the Dark Lord could see his weakness now...  
  
_No_, Draco told himself firmly. _Don't think stupid things like that.  
_  
But was the thought really _so_ stupid?  
  
Draco remembered the time his father had come home once, drunk and depressed from the Death Eaters conference. Apparently Potter had once again foiled one of the Dark Lord's malicious schemes...  
  
_Boy, was Father petrified!_ Draco thought, remembering the pained look on his father's face.  
  
He recalled his father saying that even after enduring all the agony in his life, his Master's Cruciatus Curse could still find its place to injure him.  
  
The thought did nothing to alleviate Draco's stress, as he realised that his mission was going to be far from easy.  
  
He didn't even know where to start! What would Granger think if, all of a sudden, after six years of vicious banter, he were to suddenly entice her with sweet words?  
  
_I would be bloody confused if I were her_, Draco growled.  
  
He shook his head. _I'm not going to do the mission_, he thought steadfastly. _I won't compromise my morals, even for the bloody 'Heir of Slytherin'._  
  
But as soon as the thought entered his mind, another voice reverberated in his head, like a sort of rancorous reminder.  
  
_...The Heir of Slytherin does not tolerate mishaps or treason..._  
  
Draco shivered. He did not want to be tortured like his father.  
  
He got up from the bed and started smoothing the sheets out. Surprisingly, creases always irritated him. Draco brushed them out furiously, and failed to realise that he was in truth making even more crinkles in the sheets.  
  
He sighed as he realised that making the bed in such a way was fruitless and he plopped back down on it. His head was pounding relentlessly and he scratched his hair frantically in his vehemence.  
  
He didn't even know _why_ he felt so angry, even after grabbing all that delicious food from the Head kitchen and having that comical fight with Weasley.  
  
Draco felt a squirm in his stomach. What would his friends think of his _'newfound attention'_ towards Granger? He would never hear the end of all their teasing and insults. He wasn't as strong as everybody thought he was...  
  
_I'm a bloody human too_, Draco snarled.  
  
_And all humans can get hurt_, another voice in his head reminded him.  
  
Draco's skin went pallid as he contemplated what the Dark Lord would do if he were to not complete the full terms of the mission...  
  
Draco shuddered, and then his face suddenly hardened. So what if he was going to be subject to ridicule from the Slytherins? He should feel _honoured_ to have been chosen by the Dark Lord _himself_ to carry out the important operation!  
  
He glanced around the room and noted that it was in a state of complete and utter disarray  
  
_I really need to get my old maid Pansy up here some time,_ he chucklde, a cruel smirk playing on his face.  
  
He knew he would never impress Granger with a messy room.

* * *

"Hey Hermione," Harry said, pulling up chairs on either side of him for the two girls to sit on.  
  
He was dressed neatly in his robes and his hair had been subtly spiked with a small amount of gel. He was clearly happy to see Hermione, and Hermione couldn't resist returning his smile. Harry had always been so good to her.  
  
"Hi Harry," Hermione murmured, sitting on the chair to the left of Harry.  
  
Ginny bent down to kiss Harry on the cheek.  
  
"_Hey cutie_," she teased, taking her seat on Harry's right.  
  
Hermione heard a cringe somewhere at the table, but her gaze was fixed on Harry, who went an evident shade of scarlet and muttered a soft, "_Hey_," before picking at the sausages on his plate.  
  
"Eurgh you _pig_!" Ginny exclaimed in mock disgust. "How can you eat all that fat in the morning? You know where it'll all go," she said, lightly patting Harry's stomach.  
  
Harry grimaced.  
  
Hermione noted his sour facial expression. It didn't seem archetypal of him... but why had she suddenly felt a squirm in her stomach at the sight of it?  
  
Hermione shook her head a little too vigorously.  
  
"Aw Ginny, let him eat," she muttered, sipping some of her coffee.  
  
Ginny laughed. "You sound like my mother," she said mid-giggle.  
  
Hermione saw Harry glance her way, almost wincingly. She raised her eyebrow at him and he hastily turned away from her.  
  
Hermione glanced around the Gryffindor table.  
  
There was Parvati Patil, looking ditsy as usual... and then there were Seamus and Dean, both of them engaged in gesticulated conversation... and there was Lavender sitting right across from Harry, her face an odd shade of crimson and her eyes resolutely gazing at the omelette on her plate...  
  
_But where was Ron?_ Hermione felt a nervous wriggle in her stomach.  
  
Was he still upset at her for withdrawing away from him? Or was there _another_ reason...?  
  
Harry seemed to have read her thoughts.  
  
"Ron's at the library," he said shortly, his eyes not exactly meeting Hermione's.  
  
Hermione raised her eyebrow. "Really? But we just came from the library and we didn't see him..."  
  
Harry coughed somewhat deliberately. "Oh really? Well maybe he just, well, decided to get some, you know, food and stuff from the houselves... I mean, _you_ know how his appetite is..." he gave her a brief wink and looked back at his plate.  
  
"Um, Harry," she muttered, "he doesn't really need to go to the houselves to get food now, it's breakfast time..."  
  
Harry flinched. "I _don't know_ where he is then, Hermione," he said very sharply, his tone of voice hinted with finality.  
  
Hermione felt a peculiar sense of resentment well up inside her.  
  
"Yeah well, I didn't exactly _ask_ you to tell me where he was in the first place, now did I?" she responded scornfully.  
  
Harry raised his eyebrow at her, glanced momentarily ahead of where he was sitting and then his expression seemed to somewhat soften.  
  
"Yeah, sorry _'Mione_, just thought you wanted to know," he muttered, taking a quick swig of his pumpkin juice.  
  
Hermione felt another flame ignite inside of her.  
  
"What the hell is _'Mione_?" she exclaimed dangerously, her eyebrows fused together.  
  
Harry reddened slightly, but the determined look in his eyes did not fade. Hermione felt herself admiring those magnificent green eyes... they seemed to be so _alluring _and _mystical_... they seemed to be strangely morphing into an intense, _silver_ colour...  
  
"Er, Hermione?" Harry ventured timidly.  
  
Hermione shook her head out of her gaze. "Wha-what is it, _Drarry_?"  
  
Harry's eyes widened. "_What_ did you just call me, Hermione?"  
  
Hermione felt herself go red. "What _are_ you going on about? Oh hey, I haven't even checked my timetable yet, have I...?"  
  
She looked down in her bag and began fumbling around in it distractedly, looking for the timetable that she knew wasn't even there, when she saw a freckled hand holding a timetable in front of her bowed head.

* * *

Draco ambled pretentiously over to the shower in his room.  
  
It seemed elegant from inside, its walls a tiled jade-green colour. He smirked fleetingly at the colour and turned on the tap.  
  
The water seemed to cascade down his body flawlessly, every inch of skin being drenched with moisture. Draco sighed as the heat transferred agreeably to his body, his senses calmed and eyes closed in grateful assent.  
  
He knew he had to tidy himself up properly today. He realised that Granger would probably find him more attractive if he were neat and immaculate, rather than if he were to adopt the whole grungy, heavy metal image that most girls would drool over.  
  
_I can execute both impressions perfectly_, he thought haughtily.  
  
He soaped himself thoroughly, washed the soap off and stepped out of the shower. The room was eerily silent now, devoid of the sounds of running water.  
  
Draco shivered as he wrapped a black towel lazily across his lean waist and stood in front of the large mirror. He smirked arrogantly, studying his toned muscles and damp hair. He knew he was simply _irresistible_.  
  
Draco thought that he should cut his hair, that only then would he probably come across as being intellectual to Granger. He picked up his wand, on the intent of casting a spell to neatly style his hair, but then decided against it.  
  
_Even a girl like Granger doesn't deserve me chopping off my precious hair_, he snarled, throwing his wand onto the bed.  
  
Draco starting walking over to his black robes, but then stopped in his stride.  
  
"What the hell was I thinking, '_even_ a girl like Granger'?" he growled audibly, realising the folly of his thoughts.  
  
He shook his head and resumed walking, gracefully slipping into his robes and deliberately not wearing a shirt underneath. He didn't want Granger to miss _that_ particular spectacle.  
  
Draco chuckled to himself, a chuckle that would be enough to make any girl swoon over him, and he knew it.  
  
It was true that he had reservations of carrying out the assignment, but an amalgamation of the pain the Dark Lord could inflict upon him, the fact that this would all be an amusing farce _anyway_ and the satisfying thought that he would break Granger's heart in the end had convinced Draco that the mission could actually be a blessing in disguise. It was all about _perception_.  
  
He idly glanced over his timetable and a malicious smile spread across his face.  
  
"_Perfect_," he murmured mercilessly.

* * *

Hermione looked up to see that it was Ron who was holding her timetable. Only he was looking away from her.  
  
"Thanks," Hermione said hesitantly, taking the timetable away from him.  
  
He nodded curtly and turned around, taking a seat next to Ginny. Harry glanced suspiciously over at Hermione, giving her a swift, searching look but she turned away hastily, absent-mindedly tilting her coffee mug from side to side, ignoring the clattering noise it was making as it collided with the spoon inside.  
  
Hermione was so remorseful for getting angry with Ron. He had always been so nice to her, and even when he was upset at her he even took time out to get her _timetable_ for her.  
  
She thought back to the reason as to why she had gotten mad in the first place.  
  
_Ahh_, she thought dryly, the memory returning to her.  
  
Ron had wanted to endanger Malfoy's Headship prospects. It had been a harmless joke, Hermione knew that now, but why had it irked her _so much_ at the time?  
  
Hermione stole a quick look over at Ron. He was staring at his empty plate in an unwavering gaze, while Ginny was talking animatedly to him. He murmured his indifferent assent every now and then at what his sister was saying.  
  
Harry was still eating sausages, the thick chunks of meat entering his mouth in a quick cycle. Hermione raised her eyebrow disgustedly at him, but didn't feel like saying anything. Harry was acting pretty weird today, and she had absolutely no idea why.  
  
Hermione placed her mug down firmly on the sturdy wooden table and undid the messy bun of her hair. She let her hair fall down, reaching well below her shoulders and sighed. She didn't feel like dressing up today at all...  
  
_Not even for Malfoy, eh?_ a sly voice spoke in her head.  
  
She frowned at the thought. Why the hell would she want to dress up for _Malfoy_? It's _not like I have to outdo him even in appearance,_ Hermione thought wryly, smiling faintly at the thought that she had _always_ beaten Malfoy in _every_ subject.  
  
_You know what I mean, Hermione_, the same voice spoke.  
  
"Hermione, are you even _listening_ to me?"  
  
Hermione hastily looked over at Ginny, who was surveying her with a raised eyebrow.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry Ginny, what were you saying?"  
  
Ginny sighed long-sufferingly. "Well I was just asking you what lesson you had first up today, because apparently this year some classes you have are joint classes with sixth years."  
  
Hermione nodded, thought she didn't fully comprehend what Ginny was saying. Her thoughts were still far away, on a certain blonde rebel...  
  
"_Dammit_, Hermione, what the _hell_ is wrong with you?" Ginny exclaimed impatiently.  
  
Ron looked up at Ginny, his face palpably red with fury. "Don't talk to her like that, Ginny, she's obviously busy thinking about something, alright? Just _drop_ it."  
  
Hermione raised her eyebrow slightly at him. She knew she should ideally be thankful to Ron that he had defended her, but strangely enough... she was actually _irritated_ by his loyalty...  
  
"Ron, I can take care of myself okay?" she said, forcing a tone of evenness in her voice.  
  
Ron looked at her automatically, but quickly changed the direction of his attention. "I know," was all that he managed to utter.  
  
Hermione felt a rush of penitence inside of her. How could she have been so _capricious_? How could she have acted without _thinking_ like that? How could she have behaved in a manner so completely _uncharacteristic_ of herself?  
  
"Yeah so as I was saying," Ginny coughed. "_Er_... oh yeah, Hermione, can you check your timetable and tell me what classes you have before lunch?"  
  
Hermione scuffled the timetable around, hoping the noise would drown out the sense of guilt that she now felt so deeply inside of her.  
  
She scowled as she glanced at her first lesson.  
  
"_Advanced Potions_, with Slytherin house," Hermione groaned.  
  
Ginny laughed. "First class where the Head Girl and the Head Boy are together, eh? What a _coincidence_..." she finished, a smirk on her face.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes at Ginny's puerility. She felt another pang of anger within her.  
  
"Oh yeah, that _git_ hasn't given you any trouble yet, I hope?" Harry interrupted, his tone hinted with menace.  
  
Hermione glared at him and opened her mouth to speak, but it was Ron who spoke instead.  
  
"Harry, she can look after herself, leave her _alone_," Ron muttered sharply, his eyes still fixed on his empty plate.  
  
Hermione felt a sharp twang of antagonism.  
  
"Oh, so I guess I can _look after_ myself well, but I just can't _speak_ for myself, is that it?" she said loudly.  
  
Ron stood up abruptly from the table and marched off, not bothering to answer Hermione.  
  
"Good one, _Hermione_," Ginny said coldly, her eyes filling with tears.  
  
She followed behind Ron, running to catch up with him.  
  
Hermione fumingly walked off in the opposite direction, not pausing to look behind and catch the bewildered look on all the faces at the Gryffindor table.

* * *

Hermione had never felt the regret that had consumed her at that very moment, as she started walking to the Potions dungeons.  
  
Her face was tear streaked and her hair fell messily into her face, but at that moment she didn't particularly care.  
  
She hated herself for being so blunt with Ron. It had not been her true intention, _really_; she had just felt like another person had taken over her conscience at the time.  
  
She trembled at the uneasy thought, the notion that she could no longer control her emotions and anger.  
  
Hermione furiously pulled her hair back and tried to plait it as best she could and secured it with a grubby, yellow hair tie. She couldn't care less about the chaotic state she was in. She felt like she didn't care about anything _at all_. It was a seemingly good feeling.  
  
Hermione felt a pang of guilt as she remembered the way Ron had avoided eye contact with her.  
  
_What could he possibly be afraid of?_  
  
_You, Hermione_, a voice arraigned in her head.  
  
Hermione shook her head out of the thought and quickened her pace toward the dungeon. The last thing she wanted was to be late for class.  
  
_That'd just be the cherry to top off this brilliant day_, she thought sardonically.  
  
But before she knew it, her hand was grabbed roughly and she was pulled into a nearby opening in the wall.

* * *

"Ron, you have _got_ to stop doing this! I don't want to be late for potions with that _sadistic_ Snape, you know that bastard's got it in for me," she hissed, realising that she had been abducted into a broom closet.  
  
It was extremely dark inside, but she knew the action was characteristic of Ron. She felt a swift movement in the room, and it seemed to make her somewhat edgy.  
  
"You know Granger, I'm sure Professor Snape would be interested to hear your _fascinating_ opinion of him. I'm shocked that the _perfect, respectable_ Miss Hermione Granger would ever say the words '_Snape'_ and _'bastard'_ in the same sentence. It's simply _remarkable_."  
  
Hermione's heart dipped as she recognised the owner of the cold drawl. She felt dread fill her very veins.  
  
"_Lumos_!" the voice commanded lazily.  
  
The spell was surprisingly intense, and the room was efficiently illuminated, only to reveal a smirking Draco Malfoy, leaning proudly against the wooden cabinet in the broom closet.  
  
A few of the buttons on his robe were left undone, and Hermione caught a glimpse of his toned stomach. She felt herself go red, and she hastily turned away before Malfoy could see her childishness.  
  
"You might want to cover up yourself, before I throw up in disgust all over you," Hermione snarled coldly, her eyes not exactly meeting Malfoy's.  
  
Malfoy chuckled seductively and Hermione felt her breath hitch.  
  
"Oh, I'm positive the food you've eaten has _already_ been digested by now," he whispered, making Hermione reflexively move closer to him so she could catch every word. "And there's also the fact that it's getting very _hot_ in here. Can you feel it, Granger?"  
  
Hermione shuffled uncomfortably, turning away from Malfoy's penetrating gaze. She did not want to lose herself in his bright grey orbs...  
  
"_Relax_, Granger," Malfoy continued. "You're not _afraid_ of me now, are you?"  
  
Hermione felt a pang of anger inside of her and she looked up at Malfoy in defiance, her eyes evidently communicating the loathing she felt for him.  
  
"And why should I be afraid of a _ferret_ like you?"  
  
Malfoy lunged forward at Hermione and poked his long, slim wand on the pulse of her neck. Hermione closed her eyes submissively, for fear that he might hex her.  
  
"Apologise, _bitch_," Malfoy snarled coldly.  
  
Hermione opened her eyes and narrowed her eyebrows at Malfoy. He suddenly withdrew his wand, as if on a whim, and chuckled quietly.  
  
"You're very _charming_, Granger. _Very_ charming indeed."  
  
Hermione massaged her slender neck, but her eyes never left Malfoy's own.  
  
"I wish I could say the same about you, Malfoy. Yet I do admire your tactfulness," she murmured, the sarcasm evident in her tone.  
  
Malfoy's eyes widened in malice, but he took a deep breath in and smiled at Hermione.  
  
Hermione nearly gasped. He was actually _smiling_? No, it most definitely was not a smirk, nor a grimace, nor a snarl... no, it was a _smile_. And his eyes seemed to sparkle with joy too.  
  
Malfoy stepped forward and undid Hermione's plait at the back of her head and threw the yellow tie on the floor. His warm breath tickled Hermione's ear, as he leaned over her shoulder gracefully. He let her chocolate-brown hair cascade elegantly down her back and he used his lean, pale fingers to separate the strands and frame Hermione's face.  
  
Hermione felt her heart pounding inexorably against her chest, but she was nevertheless bewildered at Malfoy's gentle actions.  
  
He stepped back and gave Hermione another smile that made her stomach squirm bizarrely.  
  
"You should wear your hair like _that_, Granger, it suits your face better. Oh and allow yourself a _little_ self-respect and don't use a Hufflepuff coloured hair tie in your hair. For your own sake, you know."  
  
Hermione raised an eyebrow at him in confusion. Why was he acting so _gentlemanly_?  
  
She shot Malfoy another look of pure hatred and bent down to pick up the yellow hair tie and messily redid her hair in the same plait, her eyes never straying from Malfoy's own.  
  
Malfoy's lips were fixed in a smile, but when he saw Hermione redo her hair, the corner of his lips twitched and his eyes became guarded once again. Hermione thought she saw them glint with spite momentarily.  
  
"Thanks for the advice, but I'm _pretty sure_ I know how to dress myself," she responded callously.  
  
Malfoy nodded curtly at her and smoothed his hand over his hair and then stopped in the middle of the action and dropped his hand to the side of his body.  
  
"Yeah so anyway," Hermione murmured, wondering why Malfoy desisted with his characteristic action, "why the _hell_ did you pull me in this closet anyway? There must be a good reason, because I know you wouldn't soil your faultless pureblood hands by touching a dirty _Mudblood_ like me."  
  
Malfoy smirked at her, amusement apparent in his facial features.  
  
"I would have thought a clever witch like you would have figured that out by now," he said simply.  
  
Hermione raised an eyebrow at the word '_witch'_. Malfoy definitely wanted something from her; otherwise he wouldn't bother being civil. But what exactly _did_ he want?  
  
Hermione found him perplexing. He had money, enough fame for being the son of a notorious wizard, good looks...  
  
_So what does he want from a 'Mudblood' like me?_  
  
Then it suddenly dawned on her, and she felt a smirk playing on her own face.  
  
"Look, I know you have a _major_ crush on Parvati, but even if you flatter me, it doesn't mean I'm going to help you get her," Hermione snarled coolly, but she was happy at accurately discerning the sexist intentions of the playboy standing in front of her.  
  
Malfoy laughed mirthlessly and Hermione suddenly felt wary as the cold laughter filtered through her body, chilling her very bones...  
  
"Cut me _some_ slack, Granger, "he said, wiping a fake tear of laughter from his eyes. "I'm not _desperate_ enough to get help from a Mud-_witch_ like you, purely to slake my own non-platonic pursuits."  
  
He chuckled at his own joke and again moved to smooth his hair, but this time he reached all the way back, near the nape of his neck before he hastily pulled his hand away.  
  
Hermione felt her lip twitch irritably.  
  
"Okay, so if we're done here, I'd like to go now to my Potions class," she said coldly, placing her hand on the knob of the closet door.  
  
She turned the knob and then felt another hand over her own, turning the knob in the opposite direction. Hermione felt faint rays of electricity go up her hand.  
  
"You seem to have forgotten, but I'm in the _same_ Advanced Potions class as you," Malfoy said, quickly withdrawing his hand and then looking slightly regretful for pulling his hand away so rapidly.  
  
Hermione raised her eyebrow at his facial expression, but then shook her head. "That's exactly _why_ I want to go now, so that if we go late to class together, I _won't_ be put in the same detention as you. Not that Snape would ever give _you_ a detention," she added as an afterthought.  
  
Malfoy chuckled seductively, shook his head vaguely and opened the door of the closet.  
  
"Point taken. After you," he said gently, allowing her to go out in front of him.  
  
Hermione groaned angrily and stomped out of the closet, further annoyed when she heard Malfoy laughing behind her.

* * *

Draco shook his head in mirth and shut the broom closet door behind him.  
  
The meeting with Granger had gone off well enough. It had been more _spontaneous_ than he would have hoped for and he was sure that he had kindled some feeling of _confusion_ within Granger; exactly what he had wanted to do.  
  
Draco knew that her astute mind would now contemplate the broom closet incident over and _over_ again, and if he were to be exceedingly lucky, she may even confront _him_ first about it.  
  
Draco grimaced as he remembered how his inherent feelings of repulsion had come through when he had touched Granger's hand on the door knob... and how he had called her a _'bitch'_...  
  
Nevertheless, he now knew that it was all probably for the best, as his insults would most likely befuddle Granger even further...  
  
Draco chuckled to himself, as he began walking toward the Potions class.  
  
He remembered the moment where he had let Granger's hair fall loose around her face. Draco admitted to himself that it had took a lot of courage... a lot of _'un-Slytherin'_ courage... for him to leap forward toward her like that... but he had to marvel at his own genius, for when he said that she looked better with her hair down, he had genuinely _meant it_...  
  
But it had irked him severely the way Granger had stubbornly pulled her hair back once more. No other girl would have ever _dared_ to do that to him... they would have _loved_ that Draco himself had combed their hair with his _delectable_ fingers...  
  
Draco shook his head stubbornly, an odd fury accumulating within him directed at Granger. Her hateful gaze reserved only for him, the way that her eyes conveyed messages of abhorrence toward him... those beautiful, innocent brown spheres... filled with anger aimed solely at him....  
  
_Why the hell am I doing this damn mission?_ Draco thought furiously.  
  
He knew the task would prove unrewarding in the end.  
  
_So why the hell am I trying?_  
  
Draco quickened his pace, knowing that the dungeons were a relatively long way away. And he did not want to prolong his negative thoughts.  
  
But the thought of why he was indeed doing the mission was nagging at him. He couldn't help but wonder if the reason was Granger _herself_...  
  
Draco groaned loudly at his own weakness and scratched his spiked hair furiously, desperate to shift his thoughts away from the attractive brunette...  
  
Maybe the reason he was performing the duty was that he was a _Malfoy_. And Malfoys were _never_ ones to step down from a challenge... no matter how _impossible_ the challenge were to be...  
  
Draco smirked, remembering his own impressive heritage. He was sure his own blood had _never_ been... _tainted_... by muggles. And that's why he was so proud to be a Malfoy. But it was also the reason why he had found this mission so damn _difficult_.  
  
He winced at the thought of seeing his father's reaction to the mission... he would most certainly go ahead and ruminate the details of the mission over with the Dark Lord...  
  
_Father knows I am impressionable_, Draco brooded.  
  
He kicked the concrete wall of the corridor leading down to the dungeons in his wrath. Draco hated himself for being so pliable, once his walls were overcome.  
  
He knew that his father would most definitely deem his only son susceptible to... even _fall_ for a pathetic _Mudblood_...  
  
Draco felt his face harden. He would _not_ let it happen. He would _not_ allow his father's preconceived notions to reign.  
  
Draco smoothed his hand over his hair and sighed contentedly. He had no qualms about completing the action now, as he knew Granger wasn't around to get annoyed by it. And that was the _last thing_ he would have wanted to happen...  
  
Draco smirked ponderingly as he reminisced about the good old days...  
  
He and Granger's constant exchange of quick repartee had always been amusing. It was what he admired most about Granger; her ability to return his snide comments with _equally_ promising argument.  
  
_And to not completely fall in love with my looks_, Draco thought meditatively.  
  
The attention he got from the opposite sex had got wearisome over the years. They would always fall straight into his lap, tend to his every whim and shower him with copious amounts of nauseating affection.  
  
But Granger never seemed to follow the lead of the other girls. She was like a breath of fresh air... and despite his inherent reservations, Draco found himself suffocating, desiring _more_ of that air...  
  
He stopped mid-stride and slapped his own forehead furiously. Why was he thinking like _that_? This was just a _stupid mission_... and he was a _Malfoy_... he could handle the pressure...  
  
And it was this thought that sustained him through another tedious Advanced Potions class.

* * *

Hermione was grateful to finally emerge from the dungeons.  
  
She had purposely avoided eye contact with Malfoy. Hermione had kept her eyes set straight ahead on the instructions to make the intricate _Halya Potion_, used to obscure one's face from outside view. It worked similar to the invisibility cloak, but it was highly complex to make and even one minor mistake could result in fatal disfigurement.  
  
She smiled as she remembered how her potion was one of the few to turn into the desired, distinct _acid green_ colour. She knew she would _at least_ receive a pass from her least favourite teacher.  
  
Hermione had sometimes _regretted_ choosing Advanced Potions for her final few years at Hogwarts. She had always liked the _subject_, there was no doubt about that... but the fact that she was the only Gryffindor in the class and that her teacher was none other than the notorious Snape had often reduced her to tears or to battle a crushed self-esteem.  
  
She quickened her pace, hoping that the thoughts she had been resolutely trying to avoid deliberating over would finally disappear from her mind.  
  
Yet it seemed that the enhancement of speed proved _futile_.  
  
Hermione had been so confused during the entire class; it was _remarkable_ that she had actually managed to successfully brew her potion.  
  
The meeting with Malfoy seemed to have tied her whole brain into a tenuous knot. She could not stop thinking about the way he had grabbed her... the way he had let her hair down... the way he had let her go through the door first...  
  
It all just seemed so puzzling and incongruous. His shameless flattery had done _nothing_ to appease her; her mind was more so transfixed on his body language... his _insults_...  
  
One minute he had acted the refined gentleman, the next minute he had called her a _bitch_!  
  
_What the hell is wrong with him?_ Hermione could not help thinking.  
  
Hermione scratched her head absent-mindedly and pulled her bag over her shoulders more securely. She gripped the straps edgily, as if extracting some feeling of sanctuary from them.  
  
She did not like the way Malfoy kept smiling at her. Normally she would have been charmed if any other boy were to grin at her like that. But it just seemed so bizarre coming from Malfoy. So atypical... almost _eerie_...  
  
And what the _hell_ was with Malfoy pointing his wand at her but then quickly putting it away? Why didn't he hex her? Of course, Hermione was _relieved_, but perplexed nevertheless at his gallantry. And why did he keep smoothing his hair with his hand and then hastily desisting the action? Hermione felt a mild migraine coming over her.  
  
Hermione also did not like that queasy feeling in her stomach whenever Malfoy was around her. It was not pronounced, but it was definitely noticeable. She had only ever felt that way about Ron, and that was a _very_ long time ago...  
  
Hermione winced as she remembered how she had been so rude to Ron. She desperately wanted to apologise, to let him know that she did care about him... if only in a _platonic_ way.  
  
But if truth were to be told, sometimes she did feel like she was in love with Ron. Those intense moments when they were engaged in passionate kisses had rendered her both breathless and confident of her profound love for Ron.  
  
And of course, a victim to the usual _prickling_ that ensued.  
  
Hermione's mind was plagued by the possibility of another episode of prickling. It was becoming _unbearable_, the internal pain that she felt sometimes. She sometimes felt like she would _explode_ any second...  
  
"Hermione?"  
  
Hermione turned around and came face to face with Ron, standing a few feet away from her, looking sheepishly at his scuffed leather shoes. Hermione felt a slight squirm in her stomach.  
  
"_Ron_!" she exclaimed in relief, running over to embrace him, but she then stopped in her stride.  
  
Would it have been appropriate to hug him _now_?  
  
Hermione had a quick battle with her conscience and then leapt forward to embrace Ron, to bring him closer to her, for him to claim every inch of her skin as his own... for his warmth to spread over her...  
  
Ron's hands hung limply at his side, but Hermione then felt him wrap his arms hungrily around her back, and he sighed.  
  
"I've missed you _so much_ Hermione," he whispered huskily, his warm breath tickling her ear.  
  
Hermione never wanted to let go of him. She loved the secure feeling she attained from being in Ron's large frame. She never wanted him to let go of her... _ever_...  
  
"I'm so sorry, Ron," Hermione murmured, her face buried in Ron's broad chest.  
  
She looked up to face Ron's eyes, gazing down at her in desire and warmth. Hermione didn't mind Ron seeing the evident tears in her eyes... God, she was just so _damn_ sorry...  
  
Ron gently thumbed her now freely running tears away and rubbed her back reassuringly.  
  
"Don't be, Hermione, I know how hard things are for you," Ron responded encouragingly, smoothing the dangling strands of hair away from Hermione's moist face.  
  
Hermione captured Ron's mouth in a kiss, pulling his head desperately toward her to sate her growing desire for him and his warmth. Ron bent down, somewhat awkwardly, and their tongues engaged in a fierce and passionate skirmish, with Ron winning in the end. The warmth was transferring rapidly from Ron to Hermione, and she felt every part of her absorbing the addictive heat. Hermione felt her knees go weak and she withdrew from the kiss for air, breathing heavily and leaning onto Ron for support.  
  
"I hate fighting with you, Ron," Hermione whispered. "I just love you so much."

* * *

**A/N:** Woahhh that was a really looong chapter wasn't it! I know your reviews are going to be saying 'argh I got so bored!' and im sorry, but I just had so much fun writing this and I couldn't resist a bit of herm and ron fluff at the end (come on, I'm only human hehehe). So I hope u enjoyed that and also herm and draco's encounter. Oh and if by eany chance ur wondering what **Halya** means (as in, the Halya potion) well it means a veil or a screen from light in elvish. I like using elvish in my stories, as opposed to latin. I hope u all don't mind. Lol. Okay, now I wont tell u what happens in the next chapter but lets just say that it will be tenuous. Well mayb. Lol. Anyways, keep reading and thanks for the reviews and don't forget to review this chapter too!!


	8. Impressing the Lionness

**Disclaimer:** _If I ever have the song My Favourite Things stuck in my head again, shoot me. But don't do anything if you think I'm claiming the phenomenal Harry Potter creation as being a product of my imagination because I am sorry to admit that I was born without an imagination. And that's the alibi I will use in the law suit. You have been warned._

**Title of Story: **When Darkness Catches the Light

**Summary:** Can two sworn enemies ever find true love in each other? What happens when a seductive mission comes along to prod them in the right direction? Draco/Hermione

**Rated:** PG-13 for language, angst descriptions and some sexual connotations.

* * *

**Chapter Eight:** Impressing the Lioness 

_There's a prism by the window  
It lets the light leak in  
I wish you would let me  
You feel the water but do you swim?  
And it's only me empty-handed  
With a childish grin and a camera  
--Empty-Handed, Michelle Branch  
_

Hermione and Ron remained very courteous to each other the rest of the day. Hermione desperately wanted to make it up to him… she never wanted to see that hurt in his eyes ever again…

After her last class (Extended Dark Arts Defence) was over, she and Ron walked out of the classroom together.

Hermione wasn't thinking about Ron, though, when she stepped out of the classroom. She was still confused about her encounter with Malfoy. She could not put it out of her mind, no matter how interesting the lesson was or how amorous Ron had been toward her.

Hermione frowned at Malfoy's seemingly sudden interest in her. After all, they were enemies for as long as she could remember. So what could have possibly kindled Malfoy's attention?

Hermione shuddered as she thought of the possibility of being abducted by Malfoy again. He could be lurking anywhere, watching, waiting for her to turn a corner and then to seize the opportunity…

Hermione rubbed her forehead idly, stretching and contorting the skin, hoping her brain would filter out its thoughts about Malfoy.

Before, she would have been indifferent, perhaps even slightly bashful if images of Malfoy were to enter her mind. Hermione had not dared to admit it yet, but she was in actual fact rather attracted to the blonde radical. She did not know why, or indeed how the fatal attraction had come to pass, but it was there, and it was palpable.

Hermione felt inside her robe pocket for the note that Malfoy had given her at the end of Potions class that day. She trembled as she remembered its words and fought with her conscience as to what she should do about it

"Let's miss dinner," Ron whispered, disrupting Hermione's thoughts.

Hermione had glared at him but then sighed. She did not want to elicit another conflict.

"Yeah alright, I wasn't hungry anyway," Hermione lied, taking Ron's hand in her own.

Ron swiftly pulled her close to him. Hermione could feel his warmth breath tickle her skin. She gazed into his sparkling eyes and saw nothing but a deep desire in them. She felt a faint squirm in her stomach.

"Oh yeah? Well, I'm _ravenous_," Ron whispered seductively, rolling his 'r's in a soft purr and nibbling Hermione's ear.

Hermione felt her body come over with a desperate want. She took a deep breath to calm herself, pulled away from Ron and smirked.

"What do you want to eat, then?" she responded innocently, starting to walk away from him.

Ron pulled her back into his arms yearningly and trailed his finger delicately down her cheek. This seemed to answer Hermione's question, as her eyes closed spontaneously and her cheek began the usual prickling. Hermione tried to ignore the growing pain in her body.

Ron picked her up unexpectedly and threw her body lazily over his shoulder. Hermione began laughing as she suddenly realised how high she was off the ground.

"You git," she said, slapping Ron gently on his back. "Put me down!"

Ron chuckled to himself and spun Hermione around on the spot. She felt her head go dizzy and she clutched Ron's back even tighter. She heard Ron let out a soft groan and he stopped spinning and began walking toward the Gryffindor common room.

Hermione yelped her protests at him, pleading him to let her go when Ron finally warned that he would cast a Silencing Charm on her if she didn't keep that trap of hers shut.

Hermione could do nothing but laugh and nod obediently, before Ron entered the boy's dormitory with Hermione still draped on his shoulders.

Ron placed her down on his bed gently and pushed the strands of hair away from Hermione's face. Hermione smiled at his tenderness, and she knew that Ron was trying to make her feel as comfortable as possible.

"Gosh, you're so beautiful, Hermione," Ron said affectionately, caressing Hermione's cheek.

Her face instantly began prickling. Hermione felt a pang of envy, as she thought of how much _more_ beautiful she could have been if only she were more like her mother.

Hermione turned abruptly away from Ron, and felt her eyes begin to well up with tears at the mounting pain she felt within her body.

Ron averted his attention and began staring with conviction outside the dormitory window. Hermione could not help but think that he was discomfited at her reserve.

Hermione sat up on the bed and leaned casually on the wooden headboard. She tilted Ron's head to face her and gazed into his eyes and she recognised a deep sincerity within them that allured her.

They remained like that for a few minutes, staring into each other's beautiful orbs before Hermione's eyes began to sting and prickle once again. But this time the pain was much more palpable… much more excruciating…

"Argh!" Hermione whimpered, rubbing her eyes furiously and turning away from Ron.

Ron placed a hand delicately on Hermione's thigh. "What's wrong, Hermione? Something in your eye?"

Hermione nodded vigorously. She didn't want to tell Ron the truth. She didn't want him to worry about her. She didn't want him to see her weakness.

"Yeah, yeah, something in my eye," she said hastily, getting up from the bed.

Ron looked crestfallen at her withdrawal and he gazed up at Hermione with such earnestness that Hermione felt her heart dip. She cursed herself for being so reticent.

"I'm sorry Ron, I just feel really sick," she managed to wheeze, hugging her robes tightly and keeping her eyes fixed on the floor.

She saw Ron's shadow nod before she quickly ran from the room, up to her old dormitory, the prickling in her eyes instantaneously ceasing.

* * *

"Mr. Malfoy, stay here after class." 

Draco immediately stirred from his daze and looked up at Professor Severus Snape in utter disbelief. Never had the Professor scolded him for being inattentive in class, never.

Draco could not help but point to himself and mutter, "Me, Professor?"

Draco noted a slight smirk playing on his favourite Professor's face and he felt his own face follow suit.

"I believe that you are the only Malfoy in this room," Professor Snape said, eyeing Draco intently. "Though it wouldn't hurt to have more of your kind in this classroom, no doubt we would then be rid of the ignorant folly that so currently plagues us."

Draco saw the Professor's eyes flicker toward the only Gryffindor in the room, and he fought to suppress a snigger. He glanced over at Granger and was amused to see that she was resolutely staring at the blackboard.

Draco quietly chuckled and leaned comfortably back on his chair. He remembered for the tenth time during Potions how well the encounter with Granger had gone. It had even seemed enjoyable, he mused.

_Just so long as it doesn't go any further,_ a voice in his head reproved.

Draco fused his eyebrows together in confusion. What the hell did that voice mean, go any further? He had to go further, to complete the bloody mission! How could he not go any further?

_You know my meaning_, the voice again sounded.

Draco shook his head slightly, the frown still plastered on his face.

"What's up, Draco dear?" Pansy said, caressing Draco's hand in a way that was apparently meant to be friendly. "Snape won't give you a detention or anything, so don't worry. He probably just wants to talk to you about your father or something."

"And what the hell would you know, Parkinson?" Draco snapped, pulling his hand away and eyeing the girl beside him with evident distaste.

Pansy immediately withdrew, her eyes brimming with tears and turned toward Blaise Zabini, who looked amused by the attention.

Draco growled and shifted his concentration back to Granger. Her hair was still pulled up at the back and Draco felt his lip twitch irritably. He felt a deep longing inside him to undo her hair… to let it fall freely down her back and frame her face…

He closed his eyes firmly, trying to block out thoughts of Granger.

_I have to focus on the mission, not the target of the mission_, Draco told himself, hoping this would somehow sift out the non-platonic thoughts that were in his mind.

Draco knew that he should not confront Granger so soon after their first meeting, but he wanted desperately to see her again. Her resistance toward him was indeed cute to watch.

Draco pulled out a spare piece of parchment and dipped his quill in the inkbottle.

_Go to the Astronomy tower tonight at 7.30. Leave your hair down._

He smirked at the last sentence and folded up the parchment hastily.

"I want a two-page report on the Halya Potion, including a brief explanation of the respective reverse effect potion," Professor Snape's voice rang out in a dangerous snarl. "You may leave."

Just as everyone got up from his or her seats, Draco quickly walked up the front to Professor Snape, pompously placing the note on Granger's Potions notes. He purposely avoided her gaze, hoping it would in turn irk her emotions.

Draco smirked as he moved swiftly to stand in front of Professor Snape's desk. His back was turned to the Apothecary Cupboard and Draco felt some of his patience tire.

"You wanted to see me, Sir," he murmured, trying to maintain evenness in his voice.

Professor Snape turned around to face Draco, his eyebrow slightly raised.

"There is no hurry, Mr Malfoy," he said, his voice mildly threatening. "Take a seat, I will be finished here in a few minutes."

Professor Snape continued to sort out the cupboard, removing a potion from it and pouring the contents into a steel beaker.

Draco was hardly interested in the Professor's movements, so he resumed his thought pattern back onto Granger. He did not exactly know what he was going to do in the Astronomy Tower; indeed, he hoped it would be as spontaneous as the broom closet incident.

For Draco had not planned to let down Granger's hair or place his hand on hers on the doorknob. It had all been done on impulse, a thought that somewhat frightened Draco. He realised that his actions were not being directed by a conscious mind; rather, they were acted on a whim.

Draco passed his hand over his hair absent-mindedly, and the movement seemed to calm him slightly.

"Well, Draco," the Professor said, taking a seat behind his desk. Draco noted that Professor Snape had assumed a fatherly voice that he often used with Draco when they were alone.

Draco directed his attention to the Professor, and was surprised to see that his face was somewhat solemn.

"Take a seat," the Professor ordered, pointing at the chair behind one of the student desks.

Only then did Draco realise he had not obeyed the instruction yet and he hastily took his place on a chair.

"You seem distracted in class, Draco," Professor Snape said, giving Draco a swift, searching look.

Draco knew better than to return the gaze, so he instead focussed his attention on the Apothecary cupboard.

"Draco?" Professor Snape said more urgently.

Draco sighed and looked up into the Professor's eyes unwillingly.

"I just have a few things on my mind," he whispered.

The Professor nodded and looked down at the quill on his blank parchment before quickly looking up at Draco again.

"I hope this has nothing to do with…"

Draco rapidly returned the gaze, his eyes widening. "You know about that, Professor?"

The Professor coughed and looked away. He began tidying up the pieces of parchment in front of him, meticulously ensuring that the edges of all the parchment were aligned neatly. Draco had an inherent feeling that the Professor was hiding something, but he cast the thought away from his mind. If Professor Snape was not to be trusted, then he did not know whom else he could trust. Yet maybe broaching the topic of the Dark Lord so early on in the mission was not a good thing to do.

"So, how is your father?" Professor Snape inquired, his tone of voice unusually high.

Draco raised his eyebrow. "He is fine Professor. But then again I haven't exactly stayed in touch with him."

Professor Snape nodded but then sighed. "Draco, I must ask you to be alert and be careful."

Draco stared at the Professor. His eyes were neutral and his lips were a thin line. His whole face seemed to be conveying strong images of gravity, and Draco knew better than to question him.

"I can assure you that I am perfectly safe, Professor," Draco muttered, carefully choosing his words.

The Professor merely nodded before prompting Draco out of the dungeons.

* * *

Hermione trembled as she pulled the pink covers of Ginny's bed over her. She knew Ginny wouldn't mind, but at that moment Hermione's thoughts were far away from her red-haired best friend. 

The pain she felt when she had stared at Ron was long gone, but the memory of it kept Hermione terrified. It was, in a word, agonising; pain beyond any pain she had ever experienced. True, the stinging had first come when she arrived at Hogwarts, a few days ago now, and it had come and gone in all that time. But it had never hurt as much as it did when she had stared into Ron's beautiful, earnest eyes…

Hermione tugged vehemently at the covers and turned onto her side, facing away from the door. If Ginny were to come in at that moment, Hermione wanted her to think that she was asleep. But in truth, Hermione was far from sleeping.

She rubbed her temples and curled up beneath the blankets. Even though the night air was fine and tepid, Hermione felt like her insides were frozen.

She did not like the feeling of weakness and confusion that had so troubled her now. Hermione always liked to have structure and organisation around her. But lately, her sanctuaries seemed to be lacking, and it was not a comforting thought.

Just as Hermione turned over in the bed, she felt a faint crunch underneath her. She quickly sat up in fright but then realised the noise had only come from her pocket.

_The note!_ Hermione thought in exasperation.

She lunged at the note in her pocket and read it again.

_Go to the Astronomy tower tonight at 7.30. Leave your hair down._

She frowned in irritation but nevertheless checked her watch. The time was 7:10pm.

Hermione considered not going. She didn't want Malfoy to meddle with her mind anymore, and she had enough cud on her plate to chew as it was. She smirked evilly as she thought of how amusing it would be to leave Malfoy up in the Astronomy Tower all alone and irk him by her absence.

But just as quickly as the thought had entered her mind, Hermione had chucked it away, surprised by her own malice.

_I feel an… intrinsic streak of… malice?_

Hermione's eyes widened mechanically. The Sorting Hat's voice rung through her mind again, its voice both neutral and sinister at the same time.

Its voice had haunted Hermione for six years, sounding out every time she did something slightly malicious or wrong. And every time Hermione always came to the same conclusion.

_What the hell could a stupid Sorting Hat know about me?_

But another voice had always answered the rhetorical question for her.

_The Sorting Hat knows all._

Hermione didn't even know what the voice meant, saying that the Sorting Hat knew all. But nevertheless it was not a comforting thought.

She shook her head and glanced back at her watch. It was 7:20pm. Hermione engaged in a quick battle with her mind as to whether to go to the Astronomy Tower or not before she finally came to her decision, a quirky smile playing on her face.

* * *

Draco paced quickly up to the Head Common Room after dinner, frequently glancing at his watch. 

_6:45pm… 6:47pm… 6:48pm… 6:48pm…_

"Argh!" he snarled, tapping at his watch furiously.

He was not in a good mood at all.

Firstly, the meeting with Professor Snape had not proceeded to his approval at all. What the hell was Snape playing at, telling him to be careful and be alert?

_I'm a bloody Malfoy!_ Draco thought viciously, eyeing a fourth year Ravenclaw with evident distaste as he passed her.

He turned the corner and glanced at his watch again.

_6:51pm._

Draco could not help but wonder why Professor Snape was acting so strange. He had shown almost no eagerness at the prospect of his favourite student being assigned an important mission by the Dark Lord himself!

_Jealous bastard_, Draco snarled, smoothing his hand over his hair.

Draco felt like the whole world had gone crazy today. First Snape, then Pansy and Zabini.

He remembered how the two had been getting quite cosy during dinner and the memory irked him severely for some unknown reason. He hadn't literally broken up with Pansy so she was still really going out with him.

_She is still my property,_ Draco growled, his hands clenching into fists, _Stupid slut that she is…_

He turned another corner and began walking up the ascending stairs toward the Head Common Room. He had about twenty minutes to get ready, though he would have preferred at least thirty.

He did not know why, but he had a deep inclination to impress Granger. He shuddered as he remembered all those times that she had looked down on him like he was a worthless mound of dirt, and he knew he would have to try extremely hard to get her to appreciate him.

_And as if you never looked down upon her in the same way, Draco_, a voice in his head reminded.

Draco sighed his assent, almost in remorse, and before he knew it, he had stepped into his room in the Common Room and had begun the arduous process of getting ready to impress his lioness.

* * *

Hermione shivered in her black robes as she made her way over to the Astronomy Tower. At least thoughts of possible detention and punishment were not plaguing her mind, as she knew Heads had special permission to go out at night after curfew. 

She smiled as she remembered that she was indeed Head Girl, a title that she had still not come to terms with yet. She made a mental note to send an owl to her mum detailing the good news, just as she entered the Astronomy Tower.

The tower itself was not really a tower. It was more so an open concrete platform with concrete railings on the three edges. It protruded out from the main castle body to give it a surreal and magical way.

_Well duh Hermione, you _are_ in a school of magic after all_, a voice said within Hermione's head and she cursed her muggle folly.

Hermione hugged her robes tightly, noting that the warm breeze made the cloth stick snugly to outline her figure. She turned a faint shade of scarlet at this thought and walked over to peer over the concrete railing. The sky was so clear; it was indeed perfect conditions for an Astronomy lesson. And the breeze was warm and comforting, and Hermione's body drank it all in with an unquenchable thirst.

She leaned over the concrete and for the first time in days, Hermione felt truly content, the breeze warming the skin on her face and the faint smell of jasmine wafting to her nose. It was such a pleasant and picturesque evening and Hermione did not want it to be spoilt.

She made sure her hair was tied back neatly and moved to turn around and then hesitated. Didn't Malfoy say something about leaving her hair down?

Hermione wondered why he had said that but then resolutely decided against pulling out the red hair tie from her hair. After all, it was breezy.

But as she walked over to another side of the Astronomy Tower platform, she distractedly let her hair out anyway, the soft strands cascading elegantly down her back and face.

She looked up to the crescent moon and saw that it was only very small. The only indication that it was there was that it was only slightly bigger and brighter than the many stars scattered across the skies…

"Special occasion, Granger?"

Hermione turned around to come face to face with Malfoy. His robes were a very dark shade of green, the colour only just distinguishable from the light from the sky. His hands were in his pocket and his eyes were blank, but his mouth was fixed in its trait smirk. He was only a few inches shorter than Ron, but he seemed so much mightier. Hermione felt a slight wriggle in her stomach but she kept her face as neutral as possible.

"What was that Malfoy?" she said simply, eyeing Malfoy with revulsion.

She saw the blonde boy wince slightly and her gaze softened somewhat.

"Your hair was down for the first time, so I was wondering whether there was any special occasion," Malfoy responded, the smirk returning back to his face. "Though I realise that I am here and that definitely deems the occasion special."

"You idiot," Hermione snapped through gritted teeth. "Don't flatter yourself, I only let it down so you wouldn't come over again and let it down yourself."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed fleetingly but then it looked as if he forced his face into a somewhat composed state. "I see Granger doesn't want to play," he whispered, pouting slightly.

Hermione had to admit that he looked rather adorable like that, but of course she would never admit out loud to anyone. Malfoy winked at her and then moved gracefully to the edge of the concrete platform that Hermione was standing at, his gaze transfixed on the moon above.

"Sheer tranquillity," he whispered, seemingly more to himself than to Hermione.

Hermione turned around to look back at the stars, but this time she could not derive the same serenity from it as she had before.

"Why did you call me up here, Malfoy?" she said, turning to look at Malfoy.

He did not answer her immediately, or even stir slightly at her words. His gaze was still on the moon and his eyebrows were raised pensively. Hermione felt a pang of irritation at his indifference, but she forced the anger inside her to subside, if only temporarily.

"Why did you obey my request?" he answered simply, finally turning to meet Hermione's stare.

His whole face was absolutely blank and this calmness vexed Hermione. How could he remain so neutral all the time? She craved that sort of control over her emotions; indeed, she had it at one point in her life. In fact, all these years she had managed to keep her emotions in check. Hermione did not master a complete discipline but she could still calm herself whenever she felt angry. But lately her anger seemed to get the better of her.

Hermione returned Malfoy's gaze, his silver-blue eyes boring into her own. They were so beautiful, those eyes of his; they were relatively small, almost like the slits of a snake's eyes. Malfoy's eyes were profound and deep, yet guarded and neutral at the same time.

She coughed gawkily and looked back up at the evening sky. Hermione felt a pang of hunger, as her stomach let out an inelegant growl. She felt her face redden as she looked at Malfoy almost apologetically, but she was angered to see that he had a smirk on his face.

"Honestly Granger, all you girls and your pathetic diets," he teased, shaking his head in amused disbelief.

"Actually, Malfoy, that wasn't the reason I skipped dinner," Hermione snapped, directing her attention back up at the sky.

Malfoy let out a laugh. "Oh but of course, my mistake, you were using the time to pretty yourself up for me, weren't you?"

Hermione glanced at him in annoyance. "I think that statement holds more relevance to you," she murmured, her eyes flickering to the neatly spiked hair on Malfoy's head.

Malfoy shook his head in mirth and they both looked back up at the sky. Hermione's head was beginning to ache from looking up at the sky so much, but it gave her a good opportunity to cease bickering with Malfoy. It had amused her slightly once, their repartee. But now it just seemed juvenile; especially as they were supposed to be mature seventh years, let alone the fact that they were the two Heads of the school.

"When you're shy, look up at the sky," Malfoy said suddenly, turning to face Hermione with a smirk on his face.

Hermione laughed despite herself and turned to look at Draco. She could not help but feel her frostiness melt away, as Malfoy winked at her mischievously.

"Pansy didn't understand it when I told her," he said simply.

Hermione merely nodded and instead of looking back up at the sky she realised just then how close her body was to Malfoy's; there was probably only a few inches gap between them and Hermione felt her insides squirm uncomfortably.

"I thought you said before that you would vomit all over me just because I didn't button up my robes properly," Draco said, eyeing Hermione with a raised eyebrow.

He had obviously seen Hermione ogling at the distance between their bodies and she felt her face redden slightly.

"Didn't know you were dumb enough to believe that," she snapped.

Hermione saw Draco's eyes widen in fury, but when he spoke, his voice was almost deathly calm.

"I don't know what to believe anymore," he whispered faintly, more to himself than to Hermione.

Hermione raised her eyebrows questioningly at him, but then decided against a possible interrogation. Apart from the fact that she was too tired and hungry to probe him further, for some reason she didn't want to disturb the peace surrounding them. She didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

"You haven't been to the common room in a while," Malfoy said, clearly trying to change the subject.

Hermione felt a lump in her throat and she only nodded. She knew Malfoy was merely making a statement and not questioning her… but perhaps it was her imagination and that was what she wanted to believe.

"It's not that bad, you know, living with a Slytherin," he continued, a smirk on his face.

Hermione laughed again and shook her head in amusement. "I think I can handle Slytherins," she considered.

_I just don't think I can handle falling in love with one,_ a thought crossed her mind transiently.

Hermione shut her eyes firmly at the thought and slapped her forehead, angry at the notion. She didn't mean to think like that… the thought had just sort of crept into her mind…

"Yeah, I think you can too," Malfoy agreed, peering over the concrete railing down at the Hogwarts grounds below.

Hermione did not want the atmosphere to become unbearably serious, as it now seemed to be headed toward. She pointed her finger at Malfoy's hair in mock horror.

"Oh my god," she said, keeping her voice in the same terrified tones to match her expression.

Malfoy looked up curiously at Hermione, and followed the direction of her pointed finger and patted his hand on his hair nervously.

"What the bloody hell are you on about, Granger?"

Hermione stepped back in pseudo terror.

_"Malfoy, you have flyaways and bits of stray hair sticking messily out of your head!"_ she said very quickly and she then could no longer contain her laughter.

Hermione flung her hands on the side of the railing and continued her chortling but then felt a firm, merciless grip on her arm. She stopped her giggling abruptly and looked up to see an irate Malfoy, his eyes narrowed and his eyes filled with a maniacal rage. Hermione gasped and felt her heart dip. Malfoy looked like he was ready to kill her.

"No one makes a fool of a Malfoy," he whispered dangerously, his eyes glinting maliciously. "Especially a filthy Mudblood like you."

Hermione's eyes widened in shock and she desperately tried to pull her hand out of Malfoy's grip.

"Let me go!" Hermione wailed, her attempts to break free of Malfoy seemingly futile.

Malfoy tightened his grasp on Hermione's slender arm and she could sense his overwhelming strength; strength she didn't even realise that he possessed.

"Apologise, you slut," Malfoy again whispered, his eyes starting to return back to their guarded state.

Hermione felt a flame ignite within her.

"Apologise?" she spat, the word rolling of her tongue with sarcasm. "You git, I didn't even do anything, you're the one who can't even take a joke!"

Malfoy flung Hermione's slender arm back at her as if it were rubbish and began flexing his fingers. Hermione rubbed her arm vigorously, trying to restore the redness on it back to its normal colour. She sat down on the concrete platform, the energy draining away from her steadily and sobbed audibly. Hermione tried to muffle out the sounds but the sorrow she was feeling was so overwhelming that it had to escape…

_Just let it all out_, a voice in her head said soothingly. _It's okay, who cares if he thinks you're weak…_

But Hermione _did_ care. And Hermione did not want Malfoy to see her weakness…

"I'm sorry, Hermione," a voice came from above her.

Hermione was surprised by its tender tone and the way that her name seemed to complement the voice so well. She looked up at Malfoy and saw that he looked very stricken and even remorseful at what he had done.

Hermione could not bring herself to forgive him though. Who was to say he wouldn't do it again? He was a Slytherin, and they were especially skilful at lying and deceiving. But she nodded briefly, to indicate that he could go and leave her alone but all he did was sit down a few inches away from her and buried his face in his hands.

Hermione's eyes widened in confusion and utter disbelief at his sign of weakness. He looked up at her, his face red but otherwise displaying no emotion or feeling.

"You can tie your hair back up if you want," he whispered hoarsely.

Hermione felt her heart dip at his submission.

"You know, I think you're right. I like my hair better like this," she lied, smiling faintly.

Malfoy raised his eyebrow but nodded. He moved forward toward Hermione and she felt her breath hitch.

"Can I see your arm?" he said, his voice determined.

Hermione did not want to show it to him but she could see no other option, so she sighed and showed him her bruised limb.

His eyes widened disbelievingly. "It's bruised…" he said, stroking the bruise absent-mindedly.

Hermione withdrew her arm hastily, shocked at the electricity running up it and looked away from him. Malfoy's face was only two inches away from her own. She could feel his warm breath against her cheek and she sensed him lean in slightly toward her...

"What the hell is going on here?"

* * *

Draco hastily moved away from Granger and looked up at the entrance to the Astronomy Tower, following the voice to its source. He felt his face twist into a mangled smirk. 

"Well, well, well," he drawled, standing up to meet the challenge. "We meet again, Ronald."

Wealsey flinched slightly at being addressed by his whole name but he fixed his reckless gaze on Draco nevertheless.

"What the hell do you think you're doing to my girl, Malfoy?" he said coldly, his hand plunging into his pocket to withdraw a wand.

Draco sensed swift movement behind him.

"Ron, don't do anything stupid," Granger said calmly, walking up to stand in the middle of the two boys and quickly pulling the sleeves of her robes down.

Weasley turned the focus of his gaze onto Hermione, where his expression seemed to soften somewhat.

"Hermione, why are you here? I was looking everywhere for you," he said, his voice dripping with sugar.

Draco tried to stop himself from gagging then and there.

"Lost sight of your sheep, Little Bo Peep?" Draco snarled, taking his own wand from his pocket.

Granger turned to face him and raised her eyebrow. Malfoy felt a faint squirm in his stomach at the abhorrent expression plastered on her face.

"You're not exactly helping, are you Malfoy?" Granger snapped, looking back at Weasley.

Draco sneered. "Didn't know I was meant to be helping, darling Hermione. We were coping just fine before the weasel burrowed its way here."

Granger abruptly turned and glared at Draco. Draco thought he saw that same blue fire within her eyes as before and he unconsciously stepped back.

"Don't perjure yourself," she snarled. "And don't you dare use my name."

Weasley looked at the two disbelievingly.

"Hermione what the-"

"Let's just go Ron," Granger pleaded, throwing another glare in Draco's direction.

Draco felt his heart dip slightly and he frowned at the unusual feeling. Weasley recoiled from Granger's grasp on his arm and again surveyed the two of them.

"No _actually_, I want to know what that bastard was doing with you," he said simply.

Draco laughed coldly. "I was _kissing_ her and I was doing a good job of it too, until I was rudely interrupted so if you wouldn't mind apologi-"

Weasley swiftly grabbed Draco by the robes.

"Say that again, Malfoy," he whispered threateningly, his wand giving off red sparks.

Draco swallowed in fear, despite his resolve.

"Ron, _leave_ him!" Granger implored, her eyes glinting with horror. "It's not even bloody true, as if he would kiss _me_ anyway!"

Weasley loosened his grip on Draco but did not entirely let him go. Weasley towered over Draco, his eyes narrowed dangerously and his knuckles starting to turn a white colour.

"I challenge you to a duel," Weasley barked fiercely, his eyes flashing with menace.

Draco seized this opportunity to push Weasley away carelessly and began dusting off the invisible dirt on his robes. He then looked back up at Weasley, a cruel smirk on his face and he saw the Granger was positively trembling behind Weasley. Draco felt a strange inclination to go and comfort her, but he ignored the relentless feeling.

"I already told you _Weasel_, that what you are asking for is a _death wish_," Draco said simply, surveying Weasley with evident disgust. "However, if you truly wish to die, then who am I to stop you?"

"Ron," Granger said slowly, placing her hand on Weasley's shoulder, an action that seemed awkward because of the difference in height. "Think about this…"

"I will not let a piece of scum like this touch you and get away with it!" Weasley said, trying to keep his voice calm but failing miserably.

Draco clicked his tongue, watching with glee as he saw how the action seemed to irk Weasley. "So are we gonna duel or not?"

Weasley glanced at Granger's pleading face, her eyes brimming with tears but he shook his head back toward Draco and said, "This time next week, same place."

He then turned on his heel, linked his arm through Granger's own and they walked briskly through the Astronomy Tower door.

Draco could not help but smirk as he thought of the impending challenge, holding a success that lay easily within his own arm's reach.

* * *

**A/N:** Argh it took me a whole week or something to update! Everyone's is going to hate me but I'm so sorry but you know I have exams soon! And hopefully I will pass hehehe. Okay, so anyway I hope you enjoyed that chapter and I'd like to thank all my reviewers gosh I'm already nearly up to fifty reviews and I havn't even written ten chapters yet! Lol. I really hoped you enjoyed the Hermione and Draco fluff even though they did fight mostly but it had to happen I mean you can't expect them to fall in love straight away sigh lol anyways have a great day and hopefully I will update again soon! oh and please please **REVIEW!**


	9. The Kiss and a Half

**Disclaimer:** Bad lawyers bad lawyers - What you gonna do when they come for you? Tell them that you definitely do not own Harry Potter, of course!

**Title of Story: **When Darkness Catches the Light

**Summary:** Can two sworn enemies ever find true love in each other? What happens when a seductive mission comes along to prod them in the right direction? Draco/Hermione

**Rated:** PG-13 for language, angst descriptions and some sexual connotations.

**

* * *

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**Chapter Nine:** The Kiss and a Half

_It's gonna burn for me to say this  
But it's comin from my heart  
It's been a long time coming  
But we been fell apart  
Really wanna work this out  
But I don't think you're gonna change  
--Burn, Usher_

The walk back to the Gryffindor common room seemed to take an eternity to Hermione.

She had not talked to Ron for the entire walk, her inborn streak of tenacity evidently showing through. The silence was hardly companionable, but Hermione was somewhat frightened to purge it. Ron had his arm placed instinctively around her waist, the gesture that would normally subdue Hermione, but now playing its part to irk her even further.

Hermione could not stop thinking about Malfoy, the way he had been gentle and nice to her one minute, but the next he had been violent and spiteful.

Hermione smiled musingly as she remembered how Malfoy had looked at her when they were talking, the sincerity fleetingly shining in his profound eyes. Even though the earnestness was brief, Hermione could have sworn on her life that it had been prevalent at some point during the night. And it was this thought that had Hermione so confused.

Ron steered Hermione around a corner, but he still maintained his silence. Hermione sighed sadly and felt her eyes close artlessly, sleep starting to claim her into its peaceful depths…

She shook herself out of the daze and felt her arm throb harshly under her sleeve. Hermione winced quietly to herself and rubbed her bruised arm, trying hard not to draw Ron's attention to it.

She recalled the instance when Malfoy had grabbed her arm so mercilessly.

_Me and my pathetic jokes,_ Hermione thought grimly.

Malfoy had look so fearsome, his eyes glinting maliciously and his lips quirked in a sadistic glower. Those beautiful eyes… once so warm and sincere… filled with such innate revulsion…

Hermione trembled at the memory, branded so clearly in her mind. Malfoy had tightened his grip on her slender limb so callously; Hermione had even momentarily thought that he would kill her then and there.

_Death._

Hermione felt a cold draught ripple through her body, even though the surrounding night air was still warm. She did not like thinking of death at all, ever since all those close calls with Voldemort in her past six years. She had always thought that her seventh year would be different; most likely safer and happier than the previous years. But when she had seen Malfoy's eyes flash that way… she felt like she had been submerged in the very icy depths of the South Pole…

"Hermione?"

Hermione turned to look at Ron, somewhat alarmed at his abrupt intrusion on her thoughts. He was looking at the ground, scuffing one of his leather shoes with the other, the leather on the surface steadily peeling away. Hermione recognised this gesture immediately; Ron was either embarrassed or scared of something. And Hermione felt she knew the reason why.

"We're here," he continued, indicating the portrait of the Fat Lady.

Hermione nodded, feeling a lump in her throat and began to utter the password, when Ron spoke again.

"What were you doing up at the Astronomy Tower anyway, 'Mione?"

Hermione felt a pang of annoyance at the abbreviation that so many of her friends were now beginning to adopt, but she cast the thought away from her mind.

"Oh, just, well… you know," Hermione managed to stutter, her eyes looking everywhere except Ron's face.

Ron looked up at her, his eyes shining with worry and bewilderment, but Hermione could not bring herself to return his gaze.

"Actually, Hermione, I _don't_ know why you were up there," he urged, the patience in his tone evidently waning.

Hermione sighed and shook her head.

"It's none of you business Ron," she whispered firmly, the words coming out of her mouth before she could stop them.

Hermione widened her eyes, not believing what she had just said, and Ron seemed to be sharing the sentiment.

"What the _hell?_ I saved your arse up there, and now I bloody well have to _duel_ that prat!" Ron hissed, his eyebrows narrowed.

Hermione felt deep anger ignite within her.

"Yeah well, I don't exactly remember _asking_ you to save the bloody day, now did I, Ron?" she snapped, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"Oh gee, you've seriously _got_ to stop with all the thank-you's Hermione, really, it was _nothing_," Ron replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Hermione widened her eyes in rage, and she saw Ron step back from her, his eyebrows fused in confusion and fear. Yet this did nothing to douse her temper.

"Ron, you can just go _screw_ yourself, because you most certainly won't be getting _any_ from me."

And with that, Hermione turned sharply around and paced hurriedly toward the Head common room, her eyes brimming with salty moisture.

* * *

Draco blasted the jasmine flowers on the Astronomy Tower platform with his wand, expending all the anger he felt within him at that very moment. He hated those white flowers, the epitome of purity and good. He hated how they seemed to sway rhythmically with the breeze, appearing to have not a care in the world…

Draco groaned and kicked the concrete and metal railing of the platform, his foot throbbing with amounting pain. But at that particular moment, Draco did not care.

_Why the FUCK did I have to accept the duel?_ he grimaced to himself.

It would have normally amused Draco, the prospects of finally ridding the world of one Ronald Weasley. But now… it just felt different somehow. Maybe it was the fact that he was Head Boy, and the last thing he wanted was to jeopardise that title. But Draco couldn't help but feel there was indeed _another_ reason for his repulsion at the likelihood of a duel against Weasley…

Draco pulverised the delicate jasmine blossoms into the soil, twisting his shoes ruthlessly into the earth. The smell of the flowers was intoxicating and prompting nausea within Draco. Not to mention the delicate beauty of the flowers was making his eyes very sore indeed…

He groaned with fury and abandoned the flowerbed, instead walking to the middle of the platform and extending his arms to smooth his hair. His hair was still relatively spiky, but the gel seemed to melt with the warmth of his hands… a happenstance that was promised on the jar…

Draco smirked, remembering how Granger had ogled at him the whole night. He knew he was irresistible, even to Granger… but he was surprised that she was succumbing to the temptation of his silver strands and gorgeous eyes. Even though he knew she was still resisting, Draco was confident of an inevitable triumph.

Draco grimaced slightly at the memory of when he had first seen Granger that night. He could not help but admit that she looked ravishing. Every inch of her was absolutely _ravishing_.

Her mane of hair cascading elegantly down below her shoulders, flowing so freely like a deep, ocean of chocolate. Each strand had caught the moonlight flawlessly, bringing out astonishingly iridescent shades of brown that Draco never even knew existed. The warm, night breeze had thrust the black cloth of her robes to outline her lithe body perfectly… each delectable curve and contour showcased in chaste and elegant beauty.

And then when she had turned around to face him…

Draco groaned at his own weakness; remembering Granger's large, soft eyes. They were almond in shape, always almond. They were a dark hue of brown, so warm and strong that they reminded Draco of coffee and mahogany wood. They had momentarily gazed up at Draco with apparent surprise, the emotion shining clearly in each brilliant orb…

_And then the inevitable anger she senses whenever I'm around,_ Draco winced, shaking his head at the reminiscence.

Granger had looked so plainly infuriated, once she had realised that Draco had come.

_And rightly so,_ Draco thought sadly, as he recalled how he had seized Granger's arm so brutally.

But he knew it was more than justified; how dare she jest so carelessly about a Malfoy like that?! Draco wasn't the least bit remorseful about his callous action, not the least bit.

_So why did I apologise?_

Draco moved to crouch in a corner of the Astronomy Tower platform, and he buried his hands in his head. He was so confused right now; he knew words could not be strung together to clearly define the emotion he was feeling.

For the first time in his life, Draco was uncertain; uncertain of himself, the mission and Granger herself.

Firstly, he didn't even know why the Dark Lord even wanted Granger to be seduced. What was the point of gaining a Mudblood's trust? She wasn't Pottter, she wasn't Dumbledore, she wasn't even a powerful Ministry official! So what the hell would the Dark Lord want with her? Yet Draco knew the Lord would be angry if he got wind of Draco's mutinous and distrustful thoughts, so Draco shook the thought of his mind.

But he still didn't exactly know how best to gain Granger's trust. Draco couldn't guarantee Granger's safety the next time they had a meeting; who was to say that Draco's inherent feelings of disgust towards Mudbloods wouldn't come to the surface again? He shuddered to think of what he was capable of doing to the beautiful brunette if she ever irked him again…

Draco rubbed his eyes furiously and stretched his legs out in front of him. He leaned his head back on the crevice of the walls and rolled his shoulders, the action instantaneously calming his nerves.

Draco didn't even want to ponder what the Lord would say to him if he were to observe the situation now. The Lord would either be enraged at Draco's folly, or… enraged at Draco's folly. There was only one option, Draco knew. But as a distinctly black-coloured owl made its way over to Draco that night on the platform, he was confident of finding out the Lord's reaction soon enough.

* * *

"Students, please take out your wands and remember that the key to conjuring an adult owl is to enunciate the spell. Please pay close attention to rolling the '_r_'s and emphasising the '_l_'s."

Professor McGonagall was surveying her HLT (Higher-Level Transfiguration) class with a neutral expression, but when her gaze came over Hermione, she briefly nodded her approval and Hermione could not help but suppress a small grin.

Hermione realised it felt good to actually grin; the past four days – indeed, ever since the Astronomy Tower incident – were mainly spent brooding at the library, resolutely trying to maintain distance from Ron, Harry, Ginny and even Malfoy.

For Hermione's friends were ignoring her.

Hermione suspected Ron to still be sour from her harsh words on that fateful night, and she knew better than to rub salt in his wounds by trying to speak with him too quickly. She was not surprised that Harry had sided with Ron but her best friend Ginny's stance of loyalty to Ron was somewhat more unforeseen, even though they sometimes exchanged brief, reassuring smiles at the Gryffindor breakfast table.

Hermione was grateful to finally get through the plethora of information that she was trying to cram into her brain, as the seventh year NEWT finals were coming up in a few months, and Hermione desperately wanted to achieve high marks in those exams.

She wanted to prove to everyone that, though she was a muggle-born, she still had the ability to attain phenomenally high marks in her NEWT exams. She knew the majority of the student body population didn't care less about the purity of blood, but there was one person at Hogwarts that Hermione most definitely wanted to show up.

"The spell that you will be using today is: _Amalda Farne Isse Kirinki_," the Professor continued. "It is of ancient Elfish origin, meaning 'tree dwelling knowledge bird'. The complexity of this spell is immense, so I assume that most of you will only attain proficiency after a fair few lessons. Conjuration is a difficult branch of Transfiguration, but no doubt with practise you shall reach some level of skill in this area. You may begin."

Hermione produced elegant quills from her wand by the end of the HLT lesson, yet it was more than what the rest of the class managed to accomplish, so this lifted Hermione's spirits slightly.

Hermione walked out of the HLT classroom with a grin on her face and headed toward the Great Hall for lunch. She had skipped breakfast that morning, waking at four in the morning to send an owl to her mother with the good news of her Headship.

Hermione trembled uncontrollably as the recollection of the morning's events crept into her mind, and she unconsciously passed her hand over her bruised lips and checked every crevice and corridor she passed on the way to the Great Hall, enormously relieved to have not been abducted again that day.

* * *

_FLASHBACK TO THAT MORNING_

Hermione bounded out of her bed that morning, the sky outside still very dim, only vaguely illuminated by the steadily rising sun. She checked her watch and groaned.

_4.00am._

She pulled back the covers of her bed, angry with herself for waking up so early. She wanted to wake up early enough to avoid bumping into Malfoy in the Head common room, but even _she_ knew that four o'clock was much, much too early.

Nevertheless, she sighed as she remembered her mother's voice resound in her head again.

_The early bird catches the worm… Early to bed, early to rise, makes one healthy, wealthy and wise…_

Hermione grimaced as she remembered her mother saying that to her when she was very young. Hermione loved waking up late, the sun shining bright through the windows and heating her bedroom to a comfortable temperature. Yet, if she woke up early like her mother often told her to, her bedroom would be invariably chilly and her eyes would be red and sore.

That was when her mother taught her those age-old muggle proverbs and Hermione could never abscond from hearing her mother's voice in her head every time she craved to wake up late.

Hermione clambered into her robes, the dark material fitting her body very loosely and she fastened the buttons groggily. She swiftly passed a comb through her dark brunette strands, furiously undoing the knots, and tied her hair up into a high, tight ponytail.

After cleaning her face and teeth, Hermione allowed herself a quick look in the mirror and paced stealthily out of her door, walking into the Head common room.

The six chairs in the common room were lined up neatly, three on each side of the room, facing their respective wall. The fire was flickering boisterously, to Hermione's confusion, as it was early in the morning and she could have sworn that she had extinguished the fire she had lit the previous night…

Hermione shook her head out of its confusion, checked her pocket for her quill and inkbottle and moved toward the Head common room door when she heard a cold drawl sourcing from somewhere in the room.

"Going somewhere, Granger?"

Hermione turned around clumsily, alarm bells ringing in her head as she recognised the owner of the voice. Almost in validation to her suspicions, the middle chair on the left-hand side of the room swivelled around, the person sitting on it wearing his trait smirk.

"_Malfoy_," Hermione hissed, her eyebrows narrowing in disgust.

There Malfoy sat, treating the simple cushioned chair as his throne. His hair was devoid of gel and parted neatly in the centre, the line so straight that Hermione could have sworn that it had been achieved by the flick of a wand and not a by a regular muggle comb. His eyes were somewhat sullen, but still guarded; his lips were mangled in a smirk.

"The one and only," he responded pretentiously, winking at Hermione.

Hermione felt a pang of irritation and surveyed Malfoy with repugnance. She mechanically began tapping her foot, a sign of her growing impatience and she crossed her arms haughtily over her chest.

"Someone's got an attitude problem," Malfoy observed, the amusement evident in his tone.

Hermione narrowed her eyebrows.

"What was that, Malfoy?"

He merely shook his head in response, and stared at his fingernails, passing his thumb delicately over the edges of each nail. Hermione fought to suppress a giggle at his vanity.

"You still haven't answered my question, Granger, so I have no obligation whatsoever to answer yours," Malfoy said simply, raising his eyes to meet Hermione's gaze.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Hermione snarled childishly.

Yet to her utmost annoyance, Malfoy only chuckled at this statement.

"My, _my_, Granger, we do have some anger management issues, don't we?"

Hermione groaned and moved to walk out of the Head common room exit door, when Draco bellowed, _"Duplus Securus!"_

The door was locked from the inside, not entertaining Hermione's exasperated attempts to open it.

"I would have thought that even _you_ would know that it is bad manners to ignore someone who is merely engaging in polite small talk with you, Granger," Malfoy said simply, as Hermione turned to glare at him.

"You wouldn't even know the _meaning_ of 'manners' and 'polite', now would you, Malfoy?" she said coldly.

"Just because I don't adopt such behaviours myself, doesn't mean I don't expect others to do so on my behalf," Malfoy reproved, wagging his index finger at Hermione.

Hermione paced over to the middle chair on the opposite side of the room and took a seat on it, mumbling something that sounded like, "_Him and his bloody double standards_."

Hermione then looked up at Malfoy in mock sweetness, smiling at him with such flawless pseudo sincerity that even Malfoy widened his eyes in disbelief.

"Well, what _would_ you like to talk about then, Draco _dear_?" Hermione cooed, in exact likeness of Pansy Parkinson.

Malfoy fused his eyebrows together, and then rolled his eyes.

"Spare me the idolatry, Granger," he said. "I mean, I know I _am_ the hottest guy on the planet, but seriously, your worship is starting to bog me down."

Hermione sprang from her chair in aggravation, and moved to stand a few inches away from Malfoy. Her eyes were glistening with hatred as she pointed her finger threateningly at him.

"Contrary to your belief, Malfoy," Hermione started, her voice submerged in aversion, "I am _not_ like those other girls who are constantly fawning over you just because they find you mildly attractive. Honestly, I would rather kiss a flobberworm than shower you with genuine admiration."

Malfoy stood abruptly from his chair, moving within two inches distance of Hermione, his eyes flashing hauntingly.

"I never said you _were_ like those other girls," he whispered. "You're much, much better than _them_."

And he lunged forward and captured Hermione's lips in a merciless kiss. The world began to spin around Hermione, as Malfoy pushed her aggressively against one of the walls in the Head common room, pinning her slender wrists against the purple walls and grinding his body into her own. Hermione let out a whimper as Malfoy moved to launch his tongue into her mouth, the familiar prickling that she had so often felt returning to her. The internal pain was excruciating, teasing all the sanity Hermione held within her, turning it into unbearable insanity. She mustered all the energy she had within her to push Malfoy away and she slapped him hard across the face.

Malfoy staggered under the pressure of the blow, the paleness of the skin on his face now darkening to a scarlet colour. He looked up at Hermione with pain in his eyes, but Hermione felt her own eyes flash menacingly. She clenched her hands into fists, but restrained herself from punching Malfoy or possibly even castrating him. Hermione had never felt such anger within her; it was like her body contained a raucous fire, each flame flickering to ignite a nerve within her, triggering such unadulterated malevolence…

Malfoy stepped away from Hermione, his eyes started to widen in undisguised horror and Hermione had to admit she felt no remorse at slapping him before… but this didn't seem to be the reason behind Malfoy's slow retreat away from her…

"Never, ever do _that_ to me again, understand?" Hermione muttered coldly, her eyes beginning to prickle again like before.

She saw Malfoy nod briefly, and she yelled, "_Bombarda!_" at the locked door of the Head common room and ran out, failing to hear the harsh, aberrantly heavy breathing coming from behind her.

_END OF FLASHBACK_

* * *

Draco walked briskly from his Extended Dark Arts Defence class that morning, but instead of following the clique of his fellow Slytherin students toward the Great Hall for lunch, Draco paced instead toward the Hogwarts Grounds. Just as he walked out of the classroom, he glanced at his watch

_12:15am._

That meant he had fifteen minutes to get to the hidden shack on the Hogwarts Grounds before the Dark Lord would scold him. He clutched the note from the Lord in his hand, but his tight grip seemed to loosen slightly. The prospects of not being late for the conference seemed to calm Draco's nerves, as he had been edgy all through out his Extended Dark Arts Defence class.

"That filthy _mudblood_," Draco spat malevolently, turning a sharp corner.

Who did Granger think she was, slapping a Malfoy like that so early in the morning?

_All I did was kiss her… and it's not as if I'm a bad kisser_, Draco thought arrogantly, reflexively passing his hand over his vaguely bruised face and stepping out onto the lush grass of the Hogwarts Grounds.

Yet Draco could not help but think that he should have postponed the latest confrontation for at least a few more days.

Let Granger mull over the Astronomy Tower incident for longer. Then at least she might not have been so tender about another possible encounter...

Draco knew he had stuffed things up now, big time. He would probably be lucky if Granger even talked to him again. And he knew he couldn't handle an absence from talking to Hermione Granger.

He kicked the grass in his rage, the dewy green blades sticking relentlessly to his leather shoes.

Draco knew all along that it was bad news to provoke Granger… he had seen that distinct, electric blue fire in those of eyes of hers again, after she had slapped him…

He trembled at the memory and tightened his grasp on his dark green cloak. He remembered having that same feeling of coldness sweep over his body yet again… that same feeling of having his very bones chilled to blocks of ice…

But what did all of it mean?

Draco cast the thought away from his mind, deeming it irrelevant for the time being. But how wrong he was.

* * *

It came as a relief to Hermione to finally reach the Great Hall. Her mood was considerably elevated when she glanced up at the ceiling of the hall, where it became clear that today was going to be a sunny day.

She smiled gratefully at the weather, and walked briskly toward the Gryffindor table, moving to take her now usual seat at the end of the table, expecting to be by herself yet again.

But she wasn't.

There sat Ron and Ginny, both of them smiling nervously at Hermione, and Hermione was quick to return the gesture. She felt reconciliation was going to come about sooner or later… she just _knew_ it…

"Hey," Ginny greeted, her eyes crinkled with the broadness of her grin.

"Hey, how are you two?" Hermione beamed, sitting on the very end of the table, Ron on her left and Ginny on her right.

"Yeah good, how about you?" Ron said evenly.

Hermione saw his eyes flicker towards Ginny, who gave a sharp shake of her head, before looking back at Hermione with a smile. Hermione pretended to have not noticed their exchange of body language and shrugged.

"I'm okay I guess, a bit lonely, but you know, you get that," Hermione said somewhat optimistically, taking a swig of her pumpkin juice.

The sweet liquid spread quickly through Hermione's body and she sighed with relief.

"Where's Harry, Gin?" she asked, swiftly checking the table for any sign of the black-haired boy.

"Oh, you mean that bespectacled freak?" Ginny laughed, shaking her head with amusement. "You know, I have absolutely _no_ idea. I haven't even given my little _Hawwy Pawwy_ his dose of medicine all of today," she finished, puckering up her lips to kiss the air.

Ron glanced over at Hermione and they both fought to suppress disgusted expressions. Ron took Hermione's hand in his own and Hermione granted him a smile.

"I missed you," he whispered, moving closer to Hermione to plant a kiss on her lips.

Hermione pulled away, her face starting to redden.

"No, Ron, not here…"

"Yeah, for Merlin's sake, get a room!" Ginny exclaimed loudly, her words causing most of the people at the Gryffindor and the adjacent Hufflepuff table to regard both Ron and Hermione with their undivided attention.

Ron went an evident shade of scarlet, while Hermione merely coughed awkwardly, taking a bite of the quiche on her plate.

"Do you always have to be so immature, Ginny?" Ron snapped, his ears still relatively red.

Ginny merely shook her head in hilarity and began eating the food on her plate. Hermione was immensely enjoying her quiche, the food most definitely agreeable with her rumbling stomach.

"Hey Ron, can you pass the pumpkin juice?" a voice came, its tone somewhat mature and suggestive.

Hermione raised her eyebrows, as she saw that it was Parvati extending her perfectly manicured talons toward Ron, her dark eyelashes fluttering to highlight her beauty.

Hermione rolled her eyes as Ron went even redder and passed the transparent jug over to Parvati, who consciously rubbed her hand against Ron's with her attempt to grasp the jug's handle. Hermione glanced at Ginny, who stifled her giggles and Hermione knew was on the verge of laughing out of disbelief herself.

"Quite tactful, isn't she?" Hermione scorned, surveying Parvati and Ron with amusement.

Ron seemed to turn an even darker shade of crimson at this comment and began muttering incoherently under his breath. Hermione rolled her eyes again and resumed shovelling the quiche into her mouth.

She loved how the subtle flavours of the parsley and bacon were complemented by the sharper, more mature flavours of cheese. The wholesome food seemed to satisfy Hermione, apart from the obvious fact that she was now on speaking terms with her friends.

The first day that Hermione didn't speak to her friends, she found that it was very lonesome. The adjustment from having friends to talk to, to _not_ having friends to talk to was difficult, even though Hermione and her friends often sparred with each other. Yet Hermione had rekindled the joy that she felt when she was at the library, so the time was not ill spent, nor boring.

By the second and third days, the transition seemed non-existent, as Hermione was now submerged deep within schoolwork, as she was decisively resolute to achieve good grades and submit her homework both on time and to the full satisfaction of each respective teacher.

This was what kept Hermione astute over the past few days, not to mention the confusion that swept over her every time she thought of Malfoy (which was, to her disgust, quite often).

The events of the Astronomy Tower incident had not escaped Hermione's mind, no matter how hard she had tried to discard the thought away.

She supposed it was all a part of one of Malfoy's dismal ploys to get her all confused and annoyed at him, and, though she dared not admit it, his ploys were indeed achieving their purpose.

_And to think I actually wanted peace with that git,_ Hermione scowled, moving pieces of pastry on her plate aggressively with her fork.

Hermione was baffled at how Malfoy could go from being a gracious gentleman, with sweet words to match a sweet disposition to suddenly being a ruthless thug, violent both in gesture and in facial expression.

The two personas seemed like polar opposites, yet Malfoy changed stance from each so readily and easily.

Hermione sometimes felt like one of the two personalities was fake, a shameful façade donned by Malfoy in the hopes that the other one would not be discovered and be deemed his _true_ personality. The problem was that Hermione couldn't quite work out which of Malfoy's double personalities was his _real_ one…

Hermione looked over her half-eaten quiche, unaware that strands of her hair were coming in front of her bowed head to rest on the quiche itself.

Ginny leaned over soothingly and tucked the strands behind Hermione's head, where her skin began prickling violently. She stood abruptly from the table, eyeing Ginny with suspicion and rubbedthe skin behind her ears furiously, the prickling seeming to cease gradually.

"Sorry Hermione, I just didn't want you to eat your hair up, if you know what I mean," Ginny said, winking up at Hermione.

Hermione merely nodded, avoiding Ron's bewildered gaze.

"I better get going, you know, stuff to do," Hermione said matter-of-factly.

She hoisted her bag securely on her back, checked her watch distractedly and walked outside the Great Hall, her feet instinctively pacing toward the Gryffindor common room.

* * *

Draco entered the shack, his body immediately consumed with coldness. He was not looking forward to meeting the Lord, but he was determined to extract answers from him, however dogged the Lord had seemed on their first meeting.

For some reason, Draco had never really innately feared the Dark Lord himself. His father had always imposed the fear on Draco, what with all the bloodcurdling, gory tales of punishment and horror that had been often recounted to him. This was where the trepidation had stemmed from, but Draco himself had never really feared the Lord that much.

He had always regarded the Lord as an equal, possibly inferior, but never a superior. Yet Draco was also a coward, and he was well aware that some flattery and admiration could get anyone anywhere… indeed, however false the admiration were to be…

"Draco."

The voice was neutral but it was tinted with a hissing malevolence that Draco was quick to note.

"Yes master, I am here."

Draco kissed the pallid feet protruding from the otherwise blackness of the shack, his lips slightly tingling with the coldness of the feet's skin.

"How is your mission faring, Draco?"

The voice was hinted with menace, and Draco swallowed. He did not know where to begin.

"I do not value your silence, dear Draco," the voice rang out again, the harshness now becoming more and more evident.

Draco trembled under his robes and he clutched onto his cloak tightly, feeling the delicate cloth fray under his very own firm grip…

"Master, I request permission to speak," Draco responded, hoping to prolong the inevitable topic of the conversation.

"Speak, boy, speak," the voice snapped impatiently.

"Well," Draco started, "Granger is beginning to succumb, my Lord, but it will take much time."

The voice cackled, the cacophony of it making Draco's ears vibrate with terror.

"Do not think that I am unaware of your sheer folly, Draco," the voice whispered dangerously, reverting abruptly from loud cackling to quiet whispers.

Draco swallowed again and nodded his head vigorously. He could not bring himself to speak, but he then he felt some of his resolve return to him.

"Master, I implore you to grant me some of your vast knowledge, and tell me why it is that the target of my mission is that Mud-_Granger_."

Draco stopped himself in his stride, not knowing whether or not the time was appropriate to highlight the purity of blood.

"Draco, I shall once more excuse your ignorance of not first asking permission to speak," the Lord wheezed. "I shall, however, not impart any of my superior knowledge upon you as to why we are pursuing Granger. Draco, may I again ask, who is the boss here?"

Draco shuffled uncomfortably.

"You, sir."

"And who is the Heir of Slytherin?" the voice whispered dangerously.

Draco winced.

"You, sir."

"So who should be obeying whose orders, Draco? Surely even a child like you is familiar with the word _'hierarchy'_."

Draco felt a pang of irritation at being addressed as a 'child', but he shook himself out of the thought.

"I crave pardon, my Lord, I was not thinking," Draco beseeched, again bowing forward to kiss the Dark Lord's ashen feet.

The voice recommenced cackling, the noise resonating viciously against the walls of the shack. Draco trembled in his robes, closing his eyes in an attempt to block out the shrill sound.

"Yet I realise it may seem unfair to you, dear Draco, that you know nothing of the history of the mission," the Lord said, once the hilarity of the situation escaped him. "All I shall tell you is that Granger should be coming of age soon. I know you have realised this detail as well, first-hand in fact."

Draco raised his eyebrows in confusion.

"My Lord, how have I come to acknowledge this detail?"

"_Electric blue fire_, dear Draco, _electric blue fire_," the voice repeated, with heavy emphasis on each word, as if it were being read from a book. "You have seen it in her eyes, I know. The Dark Lord knows all."

Draco's eyes widened. Could this have been the reason why Granger's eyes kept glinting with blue flames? Because she was _coming of age?_ The pieces did not seem to fit together at all. In fact, this revelation seemed to make Draco even more confused than before. Questions sprang into his mind at every angle, but he knew that there was a limit to what the Lord could endure.

"Draco, I shall pose a warning to you; do not provoke the intrinsic streak of malice within your target," the voice hissed. "You have caused more damage to her than before, and therefore you will have to now repair that damage before you proceed further to win her trust. Do _not_ disappoint me, Draco."

* * *

Hermione ran from the Great Hall, her eyes beginning to water from the pain she had momentarily felt when Ginny had touched her.

Why was this all happening?

The puzzle was growing more and more complex every day, and Hermione did not know whom she could confide in.

Hermione turned the corner, realising she was only five minutes away from the Gryffindor common room.

The prickling had only happened when she had been around Ron and Ginny. Perhaps it was a Weasley sort of thing?

But no sooner had the thought entered Hermione's mind that the memory of Malfoy's kiss knocked it out. The prickling and internal pain she had felt then was agonising, and she knew could bet her life on the notion that Malfoy was definitely not of Weasley origin.

Hermione walked through the common room entrance door, surprised that it was ajar. But as soon as she walked in the room, she could hear loud voices from one of the dormitories above, even thought she was certain that everyone was still at lunch.

Hermione hid behind one of the large chairs near the fireplace, intently listening to the thunderous discussion coming from above.

"… oh yeah? And what about Ginny?" came a female voice that Hermione instantly recognised as Lavender's.

"I told you, I'll figure it all out, okay?" came Harry's beseeching voice.

Hermione felt her heart dip. What was Harry doing with Lavender in a dormitory?

"I'm not just going to be waiting here for you here like a patient wife, Harry Potter!" Lavender's shrill voice sounded out.

"I don't expect you to, but if what we have here is true, the wait will be worthwhile," Harry's voice responded, its tone sounding calm and defeated.

There was no sound for a fair few seconds, but soon Hermione could hear heavy panting coming from above.

"You know, you always have that effect on me, Harry," Lavender's voice purred.

But Hermione could no longer stand the obvious exchange of passion coming from above her and she marched furiously up to the dormitory, her hands clenched and face set for the inevitable confrontation that was now making its arrival.

* * *

**  
A/N:** Okay, so that wasn't as long as last chapter, I was actually going to include the confrontation here, but I don't think I have given you all a cliffy in a while so here it is! Ok, can I just say how AMAZED I am to the response of this story! Over twenty reviews have been posted in this span of a week! Can I just thank you all sooooo much for being so kind, you know it really boosts my morale when I get these reviews and it makes me want to write more and update more often hint hint lol. I'd really like to thank the reviewers who have stayed with me for a long time, namely **Cold-Blade**, **MajorFanfic** (thanks for wishing me good luck for my exams!), **ILikeTheWayYouMove** (thank you as well for wishing me good luck, you're both so nice!), **Maya2000**, **DeannaSmith**, and just **everyone** who reviewed in general, thank you so much. I hope I gave you a bit of the plot here, with the whole Voldemort and Draco exchange, even though I was careful not to reveal too much, I'm not gonna be surprised if you're still confused about it all, but I solemnly swear to tie up all loose ends at the end of the story surprise surprise lol. Oh the title for the chappy means Draco's kiss and the kiss that Ron wanted to have with Hermione but she pulled away, hence the 'Kiss and a Half'. Shhh, I couldn't think of another title lol, so bear with me. Oh and wen I said that Draco isn't of Weasley origin... er... yeah lol. I really hope you are enjoying my story, and please **REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW** chapter nine (meaning **this** chapter lol) as well. Cheers! 


	10. Obscured Sentiments

**Disclaimer:** None of its my property. Its all JKR's. Cheers.

**Title of Story: **When Darkness Catches the Light

**Summary:** Can two sworn enemies ever find true love in each other? What happens when a seductive mission comes along to prod them in the right direction? Draco/Hermione

**Rated:** PG-13 for language, angst descriptions and some sexual connotations.

* * *

****

**Chapter Ten:** Obscured Sentiments

_Put a message in a bottle  
Watch it sail across the ocean blue  
So free of limitations  
A vision I can only fantasize  
I'm floating in a new direction  
As this is my life  
--Running Away, Delta Goodrem_

There was a full moon shining palely in the dark night, the contrast of colours becoming more and more apparent to the stargazers below.

And oddly enough, one of these stargazers happened to be Draco Malfoy himself.

His body was limply hunched in a seating position, his back arched crudely in front yet his head was perched stiffly in a stance that allowed full vision of the night-sky.

The blackness of the night had always been so enigmatic to Draco; the way that one shade of blue merged so precisely into the next shade, and into the next shade and into the next shade…

He sighed and rubbed his hand over his forehead. The skin seemed so blaringly hot against the cold of his hand. Draco withdrew from the action and gazed at his fingers, flexing them into clenched fists. The day's events were clearly playing back in his mind.

The meeting with the Dark Lord...

_How dare he speak to me like that?_ Draco thought arrogantly, pounding his fist barbarically into the guiltless grass below him.

The blades of grass ruptured and the brownness of the earth began to surface. Draco hissed his impatience and desisted with the action.

Every bone in his body, every inch of his skin, felt like it was on fire; on an incensed fire. He never felt so angry at something in his life. And yet, he did not know exactly what he was angry about.

Was it the Dark Lord?

That option was both possible and promising. The Dark Lord had talked to Draco like he was a serf, a lowly inferior.

_But I'm NOT!_ Draco screamed in his head, his face unconsciously mangling into a malevolent snarl.

Draco had a sudden urge to kill the Lord, or even hurt him. It would be so great to see the Lord suffer… suffer like he makes those million other muggles and Mudbloods suffer…

But Draco smiled grimly as he acknowledged that the satisfaction of murder would not last long. The remaining supporters of the Lord would be furious.

_I'll kill them as well,_ Draco thought naively, closing his eyes firmly.

Draco felt a faint rustling behind him and he turned to examine a bush that was swaying haphazardly.

_Funny… there's no breeze tonight that I can feel,_ Draco mused, frowning slightly.

Yet he dismissed the thought from his mind, turning his head back to look up at the stars once more.

There was something so familiar about tonight; it was almost like a Déjà vu. Draco fused his eyebrows together in thought, as he scanned the star-studded sky for an answer.

And then it dawned on him.

_The night sky... dispersed with a perfect configuration of stars..._

Tonight was just like that night up at the Astronomy Tower.

"_With Granger_," Draco whispered croakily, a nasty smile artlessly spreading over his face.

The bushes behind Draco rustled again, but either he didn't notice or he didn't _want_ to notice.

He chuckled briefly as he remembered how seamless those moments in the Astronomy Tower had been… how spur-of-the-moment all his actions had seemed… sometimes it almost seemed like…

_NO!_ Draco thought vehemently in his mind, shaking his head before the thought could enter his mind.

But he didn't need to shake his head to stop the thought. Because another thought was already clambering into his mind.

_Granger's slap._

Draco grimaced at the mere memory. He still couldn't believe how stupid he had been, to kiss the damn muggle in the morning. He was planning to kiss her possibly in a month… Hoping to make _her_ initiate the move so it wouldn't appear as if _he_ had wanted to kiss her…

But as soon as he had seen those plump, luscious lips on Granger… he had a deep urge to claim them as his own… to smother them with his own… to let their juices mingle…

He scowled at his own weakness, and rubbed his eyes.

The rustling noise again came from behind Draco, and this time he could not ignore it.

Snarling, he crawled toward the bush in a lion-like predatory manner and sifted his hands through the bush, checking it thoroughly for eavesdroppers.

And the lion did indeed find his prey.

* * *

Hermione burst open the door to one of the dormitories upstairs, her wand impulsively clutched in her hand, ready to duel with. 

She did not know why she felt so angry; it wasn't really her problem, it was _Harry's_. Yet her innate loyalty to Ginny was fuelling the anger within her… not that it needed fuelling…

Hermione was having one of the worst years of her life. Even though it was only a few weeks into the year at Hogwarts, it seemed like an agonising forever to her. Everything was happening so fast, and it sometimes seemed to Hermione like the roller coaster ride she was waiting for had finally arrived.

And it didn't seem nearly as elating as she had thought it would be.

She swiftly scanned the room; the beds were unkempt, the sheets hanging shabbily from the sides, the pillows somewhat ruffled and the curtains still closed to grant a dark ambience to the room.

Hermione trembled reflexively and shut the door, not able to find neither Harry nor Lavender.

She didn't exactly know what she would do when she saw them… she would have to trust her instincts on that one…

But she didn't know anymore whether her instincts were indeed reliable.

Hermione gasped faintly as she remembered how she had left the Great Hall so abruptly after Ginny touched her… after the pain and prickling seemed to escalate to a positively _excruciating_ level…

She shook her head before it could be submerged into confusion again, and continued to move into the next dormitory.

_Her_ old dormitory.

Yet the pleasant nostalgia was quick to disappear, as she came face to face with a sight that made her eyes narrow and hands clench.

* * *

"Pansy, what the _fuck_ are you doing here?!" 

Draco dragged Pansy Parkinson's curvaceous body out of the bush, the smell of the leaves intoxicating his senses. The girl was looking at Draco with wide eyes, eyes filled with both horror and uncertainty. Her expression made Draco frown, not with impatience or malice.

But with confusion.

"Draco, you're _fucking_ hurting me," she hissed, wincing under the boy's firm grasp.

He immediately let her go, dusting his robes absent-mindedly and returned back to the area where he was sitting previously. He did not want Pansy to resume her crybaby routine; it was indeed tiresome.

And he did not think he would be able to restrain himself from hurting her this time.

"Draco," Pansy purred, in a tone that she evidently thought would seduce him.

Draco merely sighed and shook his head. Pansy clambered next to Draco, her robes bunching up above her knees. Draco had to stop himself from gagging, and her turned away from her. Pansy pushed Draco lightly with one of her fat fists and he recoiled at the touch, however playful the intention had been.

"You never talk to me anymore," Pansy whined, extending one of her hands to grasp Draco's chin and firmly turn his attention toward her.

Draco did not protest, merely eyeing the girl with contempt.

She was mildly attractive, Draco mused, but was a bit podgy and therefore not worth attention (at least, attention from _him_). She was easy, another reason why Draco found her both irritating and boring. And she also held no elegance, no air of mystery or attitude about her.

But Granger… now, _she_ was a looker.

And the most tantalizing thing about her was that she probably wasn't even _aware_ of how gorgeous she was. And Draco admired that. It made every inch of his body ignite with deep, insatiable desire. A desire that had not even come _close_ to being slaked with the stolen kiss… not even _close_…

"Draco, _fucking hell_, what is going on with you? Talk, dammit!"

Draco sneered at Pansy and thrust her hand off his chin.

"Has it ever occurred to you, Parkinson," Draco began simply, savouring the frightened expression on the girl's face, "that you bore me?"

Pansy's eyes began flashing.

"Oh and is that so, Mr Perfect?" she scorned, her eyes narrowing. "Well, as a matter of fact, I came here tonight to break up with you. So we are through. Got that?"

Draco's eyes widened with surprise at the girl's words.

He was certain that she had not planned to break up with him tonight… if that had been her purpose, she would have not have tried to be nice to him in the first place. No, that wasn't Pansy's style.

Draco was fairly sure that her words had been uttered on a fanciful whim, with the hopes to disarm him and cause him to break down in tears. Draco scowled at the mere thought.

But no girl ever broke up with a Malfoy! It was the other way around. Girls had no right to manipulate a Malfoy… to make them itch for just one more kiss… to make them pray for just one more encounter… to make them yearn to caress masses of chocolate brown hair…

"You're _lying_," Draco whispered dangerously, caressing Pansy's cheek in an attempt to pacify her.

He did not want the whole of the school to know that a stupid bitch like Parkinson had dumped him. It would not be beneficial for his rep, oh no.

"You love me," Draco continued, watching amusedly as Pansy's eyes closed and her cheeks began to flush red. "And I want you… _now_…"

* * *

"Harry!" 

Hermione burst through the door, and eyed the people within it with disgust.

Harry was grasping Lavender's dark hair in his hand, passing his fingers through the magnificent tresses, and his other hand was clutching the girl's slender waist. Lavender's head was resting snugly into the hollow of Harry's neck, and Hermione's heart dipped slightly as she saw how content the two of them looked with each other's company.

It made Hermione remember the good old days with Ron…

Even though she was not in love with him, she still liked him, and this like was enough to ignite passion within her. Perhaps it was not passion exactly, but more so a superficial lust that had made the time spent with Ron vaguely worthwhile. But Hermione wanted more than lust.

She wanted love.

She wanted to experience that feeling of yearning for another's company, always thinking about them whenever they were faraway or having electrical desire pass through her every time their eyes locked together in profound intimacy…

"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed in response, pushing Lavender away from him hastily. "I… er… was just… um… helping Lavender… with… um…"

Hermione raised her eyebrow at him. "You were helping her to look for head lice weren't you? Or perhaps you were smoothing out the wrinkles in her robes near her waist, huh, Harry? You pick which one is most true."

Harry looked down at his shoes uncomfortably while Lavender massaged her flushed cheeks with her hands.

"Ever heard of knocking, 'Mione?" she hissed, eyeing Hermione with annoyance.

Hermione let out a vacant laugh.

"What, and miss this amorous spectacle? Not for the world, Lavender, not for the _world_," she spat cynically, meeting the other girl's gaze with equal dislike.

Harry sensed the tension and cleared his throat loudly. Hermione quickly shifted her attention toward him and her eyebrows fused together even tighter, if it were at all possible.

"What the fucking _hell_ is going on here, Harry? Oh and spare me the bullshit please because I think I've had enough from the darling Head Boy _himself_ and I most certainly don't need any from you."

Harry's eyes quickly narrowed.

"What's he done to you 'Mione?" he bellowed, his hands beginning to clench into fists.

Hermione paced angrily up to the handsome boy and restrained herself from punching him.

"You know what, Harry? Right now, I think you're even worse than Draco. And don't fucking DARE to call me ''Mione'."

"And don't you go start calling that git 'Draco' either!" Harry hissed, looking at Hermione as if she had sprouted two fluorescent orange heads.

Hermione laughed, a cold, hollow laugh that made Lavender observe her with wide eyes.

"But Hawwy I _wuv_ Dwaco," Hermione whispered dangerously, her lips quirked in mock of a pout. "Even though I _wuv_ my wittle Wonny, I am _CHEATING ON HIM WITH HIS WORST ENEMY_!"

Hermione extended her hand and slapped Harry hard on the face, savouring the impression of shock on his face. She sensed Lavender stiffen next to him, but the girl did not say anything.

"Hermione, it's not like _that_," Harry managed to gasp, deeming Hermione's last statement as irrational sarcasm. "I don't want to hurt Ginny okay? But you won't even listen to me so why should I bother?"

Hermione felt her heart clench slightly as she noted the almost wistful expression on her best friend's face, and she placed her hand on his shoulder comfortingly.

"Go on," she urged, striving to maintain neutrality in her voice.

Harry nodded and pulled Lavender closer toward him. Hermione grimaced inaudibly.

"I… _love_ Lavender," Harry blurted out, his hand tightly clutching Lavender's own, his eyes trailing the crevices of the wooden floorboards beneath his feet.

Hermione nodded slightly, fighting against the notion to express the anger that was welling up within her. She wanted to hear the full story first.

"Harry thinks Ginny is immature," Lavender continued somewhat bluntly, the contempt never leaving her voice.

Hermione felt her hands clench by her side, but she said nothing. A part of her agreed with the sentiment.

"Well not really," Harry said uncomfortably, looking up at Hermione in the hopes of seeing understanding in her expression.

But Hermione remained eerily impartial.

"I just… I don't know if you know this Hermione, but Ginny asked me out over the holidays and well," Harry muttered, his gaze falling back down onto the floor, "I didn't want to reject her, so I said yes. But I didn't really like her in that way at the time, you know what I'm saying? I just thought that maybe the like could develop into love later on, if I gave it a shot. I didn't want to cause unnecessary conflict."

Hermione's eyes widened considerably at Harry's words. The situation seemed so similar to her own… she had not loved Ron but she hand only gone out with him to please everyone… and Harry had only gone out with Ginny to please everyone too…

So why did she feel so angry at Harry all of a sudden?

"Fuck _you_, Harry," Hermione snarled coldly, resisting the impulse to slap him again. "You don't play with people emotions like that. It's not fair… it's just _not_ fair…"

Hermione stepped away from the two of them, moving slowly toward the door, but when she turned around to walk out, she heard Lavender speak up from behind her.

"Please don't tell Ginny, Hermione. It's not your duty; it's Harry's. Please don't tell Ginny."

* * *

Draco walked clumsily up to the Hogwarts Castle, straightening out his robes and tidying up his dishevelled hair. He had a romp session with Parkinson, and judging from the abhorrent expression on his face, it wasn't as good as he had hoped it to have been. 

Sure, it was mildly engaging and relaxing, but it was not fulfilling. Parkinson was not the person that Draco lusted for, he was sure of it.

But then again, he didn't know whom exactly it was that he wanted so, _so_ badly.

He had a suspicion, of course, but he knew that Mudbloods were impure and over-emotional. Sex was purely physical and not emotional, as some of the delusional muggles seemed to deem it. And he did not dare delve into the depths of poignancy so late in the evening…

Draco turned a corner as he entered the castle, hugging his dark green cloak even tighter to his lithe body.

But just as he entered a narrow corridor, he felt someone grasp his robes and his heart dipped slightly in trepidation.

"Its not safe for ferrets to walk late at night, Malfoy."

Draco felt his lips mangle into an amused smirk as he recognised the owner of the voice.

"Nor is it safe for weasels," he responded simply, turning around to face the redhead with contempt.

The boy flinched slightly but his expression resumed its determinedness.

"Just came to remind you that our duel was tomorrow," Weasley snarled, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Draco chuckled and passed his hand through his hair. The corners of Weasley's lips twitched but he did not say anything.

"You know Weasley, one would think, what with all the sour expressions, that you're not getting any from my _darling_ partner in crime," Draco murmured, stifling raucous laughter from escaping his lips.

Weasley grimaced faintly and his ears turned pink, but his eyebrows narrowed a moment later.

"You've just been inactive for all of this year anyway, Malfoy," he sneered. "What's the matter? Cat got your manhood? Or are ferrets just asexual?"

Draco extracted his wand from his robe pocket, twirling the slender twig in his fingers.

"Detention every day for the rest of the year, _Weasley_, if you don't get out of my sight right now," he whispered dangerously, his eyes flashing with menace.

Weasley recoiled to some extent, his eyes looking at the wand in Draco's hand precariously.

"You… you can't do that…" he managed to stutter, not bothering to disguise the uncertainty in his voice.

Draco cackled.

"And _you_ don't sound so sure of yourself," Draco replied. "But even though I would love to show you the extent of my privileges, me being Head Boy and all, I can't stay and engage in idle chit-chat. Do not forget our little rendezvous tomorrow evening. Oh – and bring Granger along. I'd like her to see me when I obliterate you."

"You wish, Malfoy," Weasley hissed.

"No, Weasley – I _know_."

* * *

**A/N:** Omg – I have over a hundred reviews! Woo hoo! I honestly didn't think my story would ever reach that mark, I was writing it for fun! Hehehe. Thanks so much you all, but its amusing to note how some of the people that I mentioned personally in my last author's note did not review that chapter (nine) at all. Yes, I find it amusing and not at all frustrating. Lol. Thanks for the constructive criticism, I actually agree with you all about the repetition of words and hopefully you like this chapter. My chapters will begin to decline in size because I think its unfair to keep you all reading really long ones and also its becoming unnecessary to read people's thoughts because I'm sure people get bored by that coz I do sometimes. I'm sorry for not updating sooner than usual, as you can see this chapter is significantly shorter than previous ones because as I said, i just think its becoming unnecessary and tedious for people. Any hoo, tell me what you think. Next chapter will be the duel (yay!) and also the first Head Boy and Girl duties for the year smirk lol. So - **Review** this chapter too (thanks!) and until next time – ciao! 


	11. Duties and Duels

**Disclaimer:** Its the usual humdrum that I own none of these characters. Boo hoo.

**Title of Story: **When Darkness Catches the Light

**Summary:** Can two sworn enemies ever find true love in each other? What happens when a seductive mission comes along to prod them in the right direction? Draco/Hermione

**Rated:** PG-13 for language, angst descriptions and some sexual connotations.

* * *

**Chapter Eleven:** Duties and Duels

_I like to rip you out of your skin  
I switch us around and put you back in and  
I know, I know, I know, I know what you'd say  
But it couldn't be any other way  
--I Am, Killin Heidi_

As Malfoy had been stargazing that night, transfixed by the elegant and surreal beauty of the dusk, he did not know that, all the way up in the Head Girl dormitory, his 'partner in crime' had joined the activity of observing the night sky herself.

Hermione was sitting bolt upright in the middle of her bed, not even allowing herself the comfort of leaning on the headboard. It was plain for anyone to see that she was uneasy.

Yet the reason for this unease was not as easily defined.

Hermione tightened the hair tie that bound all of her stylish brown locks in a secure ponytail, ignoring the amounting pain that her head was experiencing from the sheer tautness of the hair style. But Hermione liked her hair that way, and she revelled somewhat in the pain. It offered a distraction from the angry thoughts that were swimming in her mind.

Mainly regarding her faithless best friend and his blind infatuation with _that_ stupid bimbo…

Or in other words, Harry Potter and Lavender Brown.

Hermione unconsciously squeezed the delicate sheets of her bed that were entwined in her slender fingers, her knuckles lightening to a pale ashen colour.

She recalled how Harry and Lavender had talked so sweetly to each other… how they had looked so happy with each other… how they had looked like the ideal couple…

How they had looked almost like a façade of perfection and happiness… how Hermione had _wanted_ it all to be a façade of perfection and happiness…

But no… when Hermione had seen Harry's face, mangled the way it was in that calm, satisfied smile… and when she had seen Lavender's head fitting so precisely into the crook of Harry's neck…

She knew that her eyes had not been deceiving her. She knew she had seen true love.

And it had not been as magical and beautiful as she would have hoped it to be.

Hermione rubbed her eyes vigorously, the memory itself proving to be too painful to experience yet again.

But she had not told Ginny, and she did not even know why she had decided against the action.

Maybe it was the way Harry had looked so pleadingly at her… he was Hermione's best friend, after all, and she was required to keep his secrets for him…

No matter how critical the secrets happened to be.

Hermione shook her head and loosened her grip on the sheets of her bed. This alleviated some of the pain in her hands, and she massaged them together, sighing when the warmth spread through her body.

She glanced at her watch, not even bothering to note the time, just glad to escape the pending train of thoughts that was getting ready to enter her mind…

Hermione looked out the window at the gleaming stars, admiring their presence against the blackness of the night. She could not see the moon from her position on the bed, but she was fairly sure of its existence that night, as she had been keeping a close eye on her Astronomy charts for the past few days.

Hermione had avoided everyone for the rest of that day, sitting by herself through all the remaining classes and skipping dinner to clamber up to the Head dormitories and lock herself inside with the same spell that Malfoy had used that time on the common room exit door.

_Pathetic Malfoy._

She still could not stop thinking about that stupid excuse for a human being, as she had so wittily deemed him.

A grim smile spread fleetingly over Hermione's face.

She then recalled how the proposed duel between he and Ron would happen tomorrow.

Hermione sighed and moved backwards on the bedspread so that she could lean on the intricately carved headboard. The security it granted her seemed to calm her senses vaguely.

She was not looking forward to the duel, oh no.

Hermione knew Ron would probably get hurt… and Malfoy too, because Ron was not nearly as dim as everyone thought he was, and so, he most likely knew a few of the potentially lethal curses that could injure even a blonde pig whose head was so incredibly inflated with air and ego that it could probably fly… Yes, a _pig_…

Hermione did not yet know whom she wanted to win the duel.

The obvious choice would be her boyfriend, Ron. A part of her wanted him to win but even so…

She had begun to feel… well, _feelings_, toward Malfoy.

Hermione trembled slightly as she remembered how her heart kept pounding so relentlessly whenever Malfoy directed his silver-blue orbs towards her… those beautiful, profound eyes… on _her_…

But, he had taken advantage of her! Forced her into kissing him!

It somewhat scared Hermione, the way the world had suddenly began to spin around her when his lips had smothered her own… how her problems seemed to suddenly leave her… how flawless the moment had seemed to be… before her brain had taken over its domineering reign once again…

Hermione shook her head hard and yawned, savouring the warm air filling her lungs, and, even though she willed herself to stay awake, the tranquil realms of sleep soon claimed their brown-haired princess in the end.

* * *

Draco bounded out of the Head common room early that morning, the wisps of hair on his head glistening with moisture and his face mildly flushed from the heat of the shower.

He was not in a good mood, even though the events of last night would have normally exhilarated him.

_Normally._

But Draco had not felt like himself ever since the Lord's mission had been issued… heck, he didn't even feel like a _person_ anymore…

He felt more like a feeble puppet, waiting to be directed and manipulated by a puppeteer. And this particular puppeteer just happened to be a maniacal murderer too…

_Just my luck. _

Draco dreaded the duel that was going to take place that night. For some reason, he _dreaded_ it.

He did not particularly want to fight the red haired weasel.

_Too easy_, he reasoned, even though this most certainly was _not_ the true reason to account for his reluctance to the whole affair.

But it would give him a chance to meet with Granger… and boy, did he miss seeing _her_…

He checked that the letter that Dumbledore had sent to him that very morning was in his pocket, before proceeding on to reach the Great Hall. Draco growled as he turned around a corner, the delightful scents of food already wafting over to be absorbed by his body…

He glanced at his watch, trying to register the time of 7:40am in his mind, but the next thing he knew, he was sprawled on the floor, having bumped into another person.

"Are you blind or something?" Draco muttered haughtily, not even bothering to grant his precious attention at the insolent person who he had bumped into.

He heard a snort come from above him, which seemed to irk him even further.

"Actually Malfoy, it was _your_ mistake and I won't budge until you apologise," a girl's voice responded.

Draco smiled bleakly as he realised who the voice belonged to. He swiftly looked up to find that his suspicions were indeed validated. His lips remained curled in a cruel smile.

"_Virginia_," he announced in mock pomposity, straightening himself up to face the red haired girl.

She was pretty, even Draco had to admit that. But she didn't even compare… indeed, _no one_ could compare to…

"_Malfoy_," Weasley returned curtly, her body wincing slightly at being addressed by her full name.

Draco winked at her, provoking an expression of shock on the girl's face, which he evidently savoured.

"Looking for your lover boy, are you?" Draco said loudly, leaning casually on one of the walls of the corridor in which they were standing.

Weasley rolled her eyes dramatically, an action that amused Draco greatly.

"Well as a matter of fact, yes I am looking for _Harry_," she stressed, her eyebrows momentarily creasing into a frown. "Not that you would even _care_, Malfoy."

Draco placed a hand on his chest over his heart and shot a look of fake sadness at Weasley.

"Ouch, Weasley, that _hurt_," he murmured cynically. "Really cut me to the bone, you did."

"Oh grow up!" Weasley said exasperatedly, lifting her hands up above her head in her impatience. "Get out of my way!"

Draco let out a cold chuckle.

"In case you haven't noticed, _you_ are in _my_ way Weasley, so unless you want to actually spare the _waning_ Weasley clan numbers, I suggest you move right now."

Draco raised his wand at the girl, but she didn't pay any heed to it. She instead kept the direction of her gaze locked onto Draco's face. He began to feel uncomfortable under the inspection.

"Just _what_ did you mean by _that_, Malfoy?" she whispered, not even bothering to mask her growing trepidation.

Draco smirked evilly.

"You mean you don't _know_ yet, Weasley?" he whispered dangerously, so quietly that the girl unconsciously leaned forward to hear properly.

"What the hell are you on about Malfoy? _'Waning Weasley clan numbers'_?" Weasley responded, her eyebrows fused in confusion.

Draco chuckled frigidly, the sound so cold that Weasley grimaced audibly, which only heightened the hilarity of the situation for Draco.

"Little warning, Weasley: Look out for your dear brother. Let me just say you're lucky, I'm only telling you this 'cause I think you're hot. But you're still a muggle-lover, so I guess that cancels everything you got going for you, out. Sorry babe."

Draco yawned ostentatiously, amused as he noted how surprised Weasley was at the revelation that he found her mildly attractive, but his thoughts were interrupted by the voice of an approaching person.

The melodious voice that made his stomach squirm awkwardly as the possessor was registered in his mind.

* * *

Hermione entered the Great Hall that morning, careful to avoid the attention of everyone noisily eating her breakfast. She need not have worried, though, because no one seemed to notice her entrance, a fact that she was more than grateful for.

Hermione clutched the letter from Dumbledore in her hand, detailing that he wanted to meet the two Heads after lunch to discuss their first 'Headship Duties'.

Needless to say, Hermione was not looking forward to it. She was not looking forward to seeing Malfoy again.

She paced toward the Gryffindor table, noting that both Harry and Lavender were both absent from it, and sat, somewhat reluctantly it was true, next to Ron.

"Hey Hermione," he said. "Where were you last night? I didn't even get to talk to you after lunch!"

Hermione forced an airy laugh and accepted the piece of toast that Ginny was offering her from across the table. Ginny's face was bowed, but when Hermione arrived, she strained a smile on it, even though Hermione was quick to spot the lines of worry etched on her face.

And what made her feel even worse was that she knew exactly _why_ those lines were there… even more than Ginny _herself_ seemed to know…

"Oh you know, I was just busy with stuff," Hermione said casually, biting into the bread smothered with what seemed like a plethora of marmalade.

Ron seemed not to note her reticence.

"Hermione, tell me," he urged, placing his hand on Hermione's own.

Hermione pulled away instantaneously, as though he had burnt her, merely with his gentle touch. She had felt that same faint prickling spasm through her hand, but it had disappeared as soon as she had withdrawn from Ron's touch.

"Ron, leave me _be_," she said, trying to force a tone of evenness in her voice.

But either Ron was oblivious to her anger or he _really_ wanted to know what was up with her.

"Fucking _hell_, why won't you tell me what's going on with you Hermione? We're supposed to be going out but we never even freaking _see_ each other anymore. And you know how much I have to go through tonight, but you still don't even give a -"

Hermione stood up abruptly from the table so that she only slightly towered over Ron's tall frame, but the faint disparity in height gave her some confidence nevertheless.

"Ron, you're not my owner, therefore you don't need to know where I am 24/7, okay? So just butt _out_!"

Ginny also stood up from the table, her face contorted with fury, impatience and worry. Hermione sensed Ron flinch slightly, but she herself maintained a composed state, even though she eyed the red haired girl opposite her with some apprehension nonetheless.

"Do you two _always_ have to fight all the bloody _time_?"

Hermione and Ron both looked at each other and then looked back at Ginny in confusion. This seemed to incense Ginny even further, if it were at all possible.

"Argh, never _mind_," she responded, pushing her seat back into the table as she moved to walk away from them. "I'm gonna go find Harry."

And she swiftly paced out of the Hall, and it was only until Ron again placed his hand over Hermione's that the prickling she experienced again seemed to jolt her to her senses and she quickly ran after Ginny, desperately praying that the red haired girl would not discover the sight that would surely break her heart.

* * *

"Ginny! Ginny! Hang on, wait for me!"

Draco watched with mild perplexity as the Weasley girl in front of him rolled her eyes again in the same dramatic fashion but she stood her ground nevertheless.

"Ginny hang on a-"

Granger ran past the corner to meet up with the sight of Draco and Weasley.

Draco felt his stomach do somersaults, the feeling scaring him as it seemed so foreign and new. Granger's hair framed her face messily, each curl undefined against masses of frizz that granted her beauty nevertheless. Draco felt a strong urge to reach out and tame the curls, but he resisted the impulse.

Granger was panting slightly and her cheeks were somewhat red and flustered, that made Draco experience a strong sense of desire pass through his body. Granger's face contorted into a cruel frown when she saw Draco that made his heart dip slightly.

"What are _you_ doing here?" she scorned, fury blazing blatantly in her eyes that made him cower slightly.

"Don't worry about him, 'Mione," Weasley said, her confused eyes never leaving Draco's own as she pondered about what Draco had said earlier.

Draco forced his lips to twist into a smirk.

"Ahhh, Granger, we meet again," he announced pretentiously, bowing slightly in mock politeness at the brown haired beauty.

Granger laughed coldly.

"I thought a person like you would know by now that its not safe to have your back turned towards your enemies Malfoy," she said dangerously, eyeing the blonde boy with revulsion. "What makes you think I won't hex you?"

Draco pouted and he noted with amusement that Granger's eyes widened slightly in surprise.

"_Enemies_, Granger? Surely our past differences have been laid aside, what with the recent circumstances and events?"

The Weasley girl looked over at Granger, her eyebrows raised questioningly. Draco felt a sudden pang of irritation at her mere presence.

"What's he on about, 'Mione?" she ventured, surveying Granger with confusion.

Granger grimaced slightly, though Draco did not know why, but she then shot a cold look over at him that for some reason made him want to kneel down and beg her for forgiveness.

"Oh, he just means 'cause we're both Heads now," Granger replied, somewhat curtly, the tone of her voice astounding Draco.

But he shook his head amusedly.

"Don't forget about tonight, Granger. And I sincerely hope your timid lion won't be forced to step down from his royal position after the proceedings. He was a good king, though both reckless and foolish. But the reckless and the foolish do serve their purposes nevertheless, right Granger?"

And with that enigmatic speech, Draco brushed past the two pretty girls, his robes characteristically billowing after him.

* * *

"Come in, Miss Granger."

Hermione walked through the door to enter Dumbledore's office, her stomach feeling somewhat queasy as she had eaten her lunch very quickly indeed, after remembering her appointment with the Headmaster was already in procession.

She took her seat sheepishly, careful to sit as far away from Malfoy as possible and she returned the smile on Dumbledore's face with ready ease.

Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, spectacles donned upon the bridge of his nose that gave him an almost uncharacteristic severeness. His hands were clasping a scroll of off-white parchment, which he began opening somewhat affectedly, as if beckoning conversation to transpire between the two Heads.

But they remained, as per prediction, as eerily silent as ever.

Hermione chanced a glance at Malfoy, making full use of her peripheral vision.

Malfoy's hair had dried by now (_Well of course it would have by 'now'_, Hermione thought stupidly) and the strands hung lusciously to frame his face in a delectable undercut. Hermione shook her head slightly, careful not to gain the attention of Dumbledore.

"Well, I must first ask you, how is the Head common room? I hope it is to your liking, though I must beg you to keep the windows open at night to let the rats escape to engage in their feasting rituals."

He chuckled and glanced over the piece of parchment, and both Hermione and Malfoy exchanged looks of disbelief. But when they both locked gazes, they suddenly turned away from each other in shock.

"Professor, the common room is excellent," Hermione coughed, and she sensed Malfoy nod rather vigorously beside her.

"Indeed," Dumbledore murmured, surveying the two of them again with mild interest before smiling and glancing back down at the parchment in his hand.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she saw from the corner of her eye that Malfoy was looking at her. Though the way in which he was looking at her seemed to frighten her slightly…

It was almost in a… _scandalous_…manner…

"Well, back to the purpose of this meeting," Dumbledore said quietly. "I have decided that there will be a formal ball later this year, requiring all students to wear formal dress robe attire. Yes, I have decided to allow people below the fourth year to attend also, after consultation with the teaching staff, and we all believe that this is an excellent opportunity to showcase house unity and your own creativity. Of course, you both shall have maximum input, though all ideas must be safe and approved by yours truly. I myself see no boundaries, unless of course the major attraction includes a giant-sized hippogriff, in which case I hope you will excuse me if I veto the idea."

Hermione forced a laugh, but her mood could not help but lighten at Dumbledore's proposal.

A ball? At Hogwarts? Hermione smiled. It would be just like fourth year all over again! And what a way to celebrate her last year at school!

She grinned as she imagined Ginny dragging her to all the shops in Hogsmeade looking for extravagant robes and the like, especially for the occasion. She couldn't wait to plan it!

_But wait a second_, Hermione thought, her heart dipping slightly in disappointment. _I have to plan this with Malfoy! Together with… 'Malfoy'…_

"When is it?" Malfoy muttered, his tone of voice and facial expression completely inscrutable.

Hermione quickly glanced over at Dumbledore, who was frowning slightly.

"We have not as of yet ascertained an exact date, Mr Malfoy, though I believe that a ball would be a magnificent way to culminate the year, wouldn't you agree?"

Malfoy nodded his head impassively, but Hermione simply could not contain her excitement.

"So we get to organise everything? What about entertainment and food and stuff?"

Malfoy shot Hermione a look of disgust but she promptly ignored him, instead choosing to look at Dumbledore, her face shining fresh with youth and happiness. Dumbledore chuckled at her enthusiasm.

"Yes, Miss Granger, I firmly believe the two of you are more than capable of handling matters yourselves. I expect most of the arrangements to be at least outlined within the next month, which allows plenty of time to organise all the necessary activities. Yet there is one minor condition, and when I say _minor_, I hope that you both will indeed find the condition minor, because it is indeed minor, unless you both bring to surface any quar-"

But here he paused, glanced quickly at his watch, and said, "I'm sorry, but I must leave you now, as I have another engagement, but we shall have another meeting soon so I can tell you what the minor condition is. But in the mean time, discuss any possible themes that the ball can uphold."

Hermione grinned even wider. At least she had something to look forward to, because her life was pretty bleak at the moment.

_But I guess there always 'is' a light at the end of the tunnel, if you only just wait for it_, she thought happily.

* * *

Draco walked out of Dumbledore's office, rubbing the nape of his neck forcefully.

For some reason, it had begun to throb painfully during the meeting with Dumbledore and he could find no reason to account for it. It had never happened before, so it was probably unimportant, but it still nevertheless hurt like there was no tomorrow.

He quickened his pace as he made his way toward the Head common room before Granger could, even though he was sure she had gone to probably seize her lover boy up for the duel that was to take place in about two hours.

He scowled at the mere thought and unconsciously quickened his pace even further, noting that the common room was probably five minutes away from where he was.

Draco passed a hand over his hair, separating the strands so that there was no partition in the middle of his head anymore and his senses calmed slightly.

He remembered how Granger had looked so naively beautiful up in Dumbledore's office… how the frizz in her hair had made him want to tame it with his own fingers so _bad_…

Draco winced at his own weakness and turned a corner, his robes fluttering gracefully behind him.

And when she had found out about the ball, she looked like there was a party brewing up within her very own body!

_And man would I love to go to that party_, Draco thought, wincing once again as the thought crept into his mind

He growled, remembering that he was not meant to harbour feelings for the Mudblood, but to merely seduce her and gain her trust. And what was so hard about doing that? It was not as if he had never done it before, indeed, that was what he was most used to doing – seducing girls, bedding them and then dumping them the morning after. Piece of cake, it was.

But Granger was so damn resistant! Why wasn't she falling like the rest of them?

Draco walked bitterly into the common room, shutting the door loudly behind him, and ran the water for the bath. It had been a long time since he had a bath, and he knew that he had more than deserved it after what had happened all of today.

"_Permanere purus_!" Draco murmured, pointing his wand lazily at the water, which began to sparkle magically with soap.

He clambered in somewhat ineptly and submerged his toned body into the warm water, letting the moisture seep into his thirsty skin.

Draco scowled as he thought of their first Headship duty for the year. A damn ball! Draco sighed, remembering all the many extravagant balls and parties he had attended over the years, because of his reputable Father and his long line of clientele and indeed, butt-kissers, who Draco had been forced to be amiable toward.

Draco frowned and sifted his hands through to water, that smelt distinctly of jasmine.

_Now where have I smelt that before..._

"Ahh," Draco murmured huskily, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. "The infamous Astronomy Tower."

Those damn jasmine flowers… so beautiful and pure, yet so incredibly resistant and intoxicatingly sweet at the same time…

Draco winced as the water began to decrease in temperature and, before his skin could wrinkle up unattractively, he climbed out of the bath and dried himself idly with his favourite black towel.

He applied gel to his hair, deciding this time to spike it smartly before approving himself in the mirror. Draco crept out of the common room, checking his pocket for his wand, which he knew would be very much needed that night.

* * *

"Ron, are you sure you want to do this?"

Hermione buttoned up Ron's robes for him, not in the slightest embarrassed at witnessing his toned body and mildly freckled skin. It wasn't as if she hadn't seen it all before, and Ron didn't seem to mind either.

It seemed as though he was rather enjoying the attention from Hermione, but a large part of him was hopelessly scared of the prospects of a duel with Draco Malfoy, aka the-ferret-in-the-inner-circle-of-none-other-than-you-know-who.

"Hand me my wand," he said somewhat timidly, his eyes slightly glassy with fear.

Hermione shook her head, as Ron had once again ignored her pending question, and threw the slender twig at her boyfriend, who did not even attempt to catch it. She exasperatedly leaned forward to pick up the wand and she thrust it into his hand, closing each of his fingers around the thin cylinder in a fairly firm grasp.

"You don't have to do this, you know," Hermione again urged, straightening Ron's hopeless collar out for him in rather neat way.

Ron did not even react the slightest.

"RON!" Hermione bellowed, so unconsciously loud that Ron finally stirred and eyed her hesitantly.

"What? What? What?" he murmured, his expression resuming its dazed state once more.

Hermione growled her impatience and flung her hands above her head in submission.

"Got any good spells up your sleeve, Weasley?" she muttered harshly, crossing her arms over her chest, waiting for him to respond, even though she was pretty sure she already knew the answer.

This statement, however, seemed to slice through Ron like a serrated knife.

"Hey, hey, if you actually hung out with me more, you would have noticed that I looked up a few good spells especially for tonight, thank you very much," Ron murmured defensively.

Hermione suppressed the growing rage that was welling up inside her.

"Whatever Ron," she chose to say. "Let's just go."

* * *

Just as the two of them had reached the Astronomy Tower platform, Ron looped his arm around Hermione's own, rather instinctively, and Hermione could sense the growing fear that was plaguing his mind.

She could not even dare to imagine the terror that Ron was feeling at that very moment. Hermione knew that she would be pretty terrified if she had to face Malfoy, knowing full well that the blonde rebel was most probably up to his ears with knowledge about the dark arts and the like. Ron did not stand a chance, unless there was some prophecy at play. Or a miracle.

And each seemed as unlikely as the other.

They entered the platform, and Hermione appreciatively could not see Malfoy anywhere and her heart lightened slightly. Even though she wasn't sure whom she wanted to win the duel, she was certain she did not want either of them to get hurt.

Hermione knew that she could not dissuade Ron from his resolve. That was one thing about Ron you could count on – he never broke his promises. And Hermione respected that, so she did not try to deter him too much.

Hermione broke away from Ron's grasp and moved toward the concrete railing that she knew only too well, noting that the stars in the sky were shining dimly, as if they knew of the tragic events that were about unfold beneath them…

Hermione shivered in her cloak, not knowing whether Malfoy would come or not, but the thought immediately disappeared from her mind as she suspected that Malfoy would never miss any chance to show off his skill and talent.

For Hermione knew he was indeed skilled and talented. What other reason could Dumbledore have for choosing him as Head Boy for the year?

She sensed Ron come up behind her, but he did not touch her and Hermione was grateful for that fact.

"Hermione," Ron whispered, making Hermione turn around to face him.

He was so much taller than her, but he seemed like an equal to her. She loved him for being so amicable.

"Yeah?"

"I just want you to know that nothing's gonna happen to me tonight. Just trust me. Trust me," he repeated, taking Hermione's hand in his own and stroking it.

Hermione's eyes closed artlessly and her breathing deepened. She had a sudden urge to kiss Ron… to feel his warmth again, to escape her worries once more…

"Oh for Merlin's sake – get a bloody room."

Hermione's eyes opened instantly at the snide remark and both she and Ron saw that Malfoy had finally made his arrival.

Hermione gasped as a sudden wave of jasmine scent made its way toward her… her _favourite_ flower…

Malfoy was looking particularly haughty, his hair spiked up and his skin mildly flushed to grant him an angelic beauty.

_Except angels don't smirk,_ Hermione thought irritably, as she surveyed the characteristic sneer on the gorgeous boy in front of her.

"And the pretty boy finally decides to show up," Ron said loudly. "What freaking perfume are you wearing Malfoy?"

Hermione tensed somewhat behind Ron.

"It's jasmine flowers I think," she said matter-of-factly, surveying Malfoy with surprise.

Ron sneered.

"More like 'Orchard of Shit', eh Hermione?" he snarled, rummaging inelegantly in his pocket for his wand.

Hermione fought the urge to slap Ron, ashamed at his blemishing of something so beautiful and pure, but Malfoy seemed arrogant enough to let the remark bounce off him, leaving him utterly unscathed.

"At least I have some dignity and I don't show up with a Mudblood around my arm," Malfoy roared. "Honestly Weasley, you're a disgrace to purebloods everywhere."

Hermione felt a violent volcano erupt within her but she needn't have shown her fury.

"YOU TAKE THAT BACK YOU BASTARD!" Ron bellowed, raising his wand at Malfoy menacingly. "_Metalion Kranion_!"

Hermione gasped audibly as the jet of blue light hit Malfoy in the head and his skin darkened to a navy blue-black colour and his whole body staggered around one side of the platform, his hands holding up the dark navy blue-black lump. It was only then that Hermione realised that Malfoy's head had turned into a large block of metal.

Ron laughed animatedly beside Hermione, pulling her waist in toward him but Hermione resisted his advances, her eyes glinting wide in undisguised horror.

But she needn't have worried, as Malfoy's head soon turned back to its normal state.

"First rule of duelling, Weasel," he whispered dangerously. "Do not instigate an attack when your enemy is unaware. _Acidus fontana_!"

Ron stopped laughing immediately and he looked over at Hermione in horror. Hermione raised her eyebrow at him, not knowing when the spell would take full effect but a moment later she screamed and scrambled away from the red haired boy.

His mouth was wide open and a fluorescent green coloured liquid began pouring out of his mouth uncontrollably. It seemed to be acidic and painful, as Ron was screeching at an unimaginably high volume, as the liquid rooting from his insides began draining from his mouth and running down to burn his skin and robes…

"Malfoy, take the fucking curse off him now!" Hermione managed to yell, her eyes glistening with moisture and terror.

Malfoy stopped his maniacal laughter immediately and reluctantly murmured, "_Sistere_!", whereupon Ron's skin and robes emerged back from no where and he seemed relatively unharmed, apart from the horrified expression manifested on his face.

"You're lucky I have a soft spot for your girl, Weasel, or I would have left you to die," Malfoy said lazily, winking at Hermione.

Ron's ears went blood red and his face was contorted into one of pure malice.

"Why you… _SERRA DILUVIUM_!"

Hermione could not keep count from the sidelines, but about five knives emerged from Ron's slender wand, all of them directed at Malfoy, whose eyes were widened in both shock and immense fear.

The blades all struck Malfoy simultaneously before they cluttered to the ground and disappeared into smoke. Malfoy slid down the wall near the entrance of the Astronomy Tower, his limbs bleeding profusely and his breathing deep and harsh.

Hermione gazed at Ron, her eyes filling with tears of disbelief and before she could stop herself, she bellowed, "_Brevis stupere_!" and watched with mild relief as Ron fell to the floor in a mild sleeping state.

She rushed over to Malfoy, despite the snide comment he had spoken before, and knelt before him, though she did not dare touch him yet. What if he recoiled away at being touched by a Mudblood?

Hermione felt tears in her eyes again.

She could not _help_ being a Mudblood… she could not _help_ having brown bushy hair… she could not _help_ being a hopeless nerd… she could not _help_ being ugly when compared to her mother…

And she could no longer keep the grief within her. She unclasped her hair and let it fall freely behind and in front of her… she let the tears fall… let the sobs become audible…

Never even realising that before her, the blonde haired boy, who was steadily losing blood, was also steadily regaining consciousness…

* * *

Somewhere near him, Draco heard weeping. And it jolted him back to his senses…

It reminded him of something… someone…

_His mother._

His mother, the dear woman who had so often wept when his Father had gone away on business… who had so often wished for a life other than the one she had been granted…

Draco felt dizzy in his head, felt like the world was spinning around him. He felt thick moisture accumulating under his robes, his nose inhaling that distinct smell of iron that had soon become his father's trademark scent…

Draco felt his mind move back and forth from consciousness back to unconsciousness until he thought he had died… the blackness had once again arrived and had become so overpowering… Draco knew he had died…

But when he heard the crying coming from somewhere near him… he knew he had to come back, for some reason… not for his own selfish reasons, but for someone else's…

Draco slowly opened his eyes, his focus bleary and his mind spinning again but he saw that same chocolate brown hair that sent a wave of warmth through his body… alleviating the pain so much so that his focus became sharper… the feeling came back to his body…

But this wasn't his mother… it was…

"_Granger_?" Draco whispered, his voice so low it was almost silent.

The girl's hair was splayed in front of her face, but upon hearing Draco's words, she swiftly pulled the brown mass of tresses precariously behind her ears and smiled at him

A smile that made butterflies flutter in his stomach.

"_D-Draco_?" she answered, her voice melodious and caring.

Draco tried to sit up more comfortably against the wall, but the pain rippled back through his body and he gasped his shock. Granger leaned forward instantly and placed her hand on Draco's shoulder and he felt wild electricity pass through his body that jerked his senses.

She… she was _touching_ him…

"Don't move, it'll only hurt more," she said quietly, patting his back, near the nape of his neck, lightly. When she saw him wince under the pressure, she immediately tried to pull down the robes near that area to examine any possible wound, but he scowled at her so fiercely that she hastily removed her hand.

"Are you feeling okay?" Granger whispered awkwardly, turning her head away from the boy.

Draco felt himself sneer in response before he could stop himself.

"What the _fuck_ do you think?" he answered harshly, his eyes once again becoming groggy.

Granger grimaced and the strands of her hair began falling back into her face before she could smooth them back into place.

"I'm sorry," she managed to whisper, her eyes staring into Draco's own with deep sincerity and ruefulness.

Draco felt a sudden urge to touch Granger's hair… knew the desire just _had_ to be sated this time around…

He extended his hand slowly, flexing his fingers slightly before plunging them into Granger's mane of brown hair, twisting the strands around his blood-streaked fingers barbarically.

The girl gasped in surprise but she did not move away from him. Draco moved his finger toward Granger's flushed cheek, the action making Granger close her eyes immediately and lean in slightly toward the boy.

Draco traced the contour of her cheek with sheer amazement, savouring the feeling of her delicate, velvet skin on his own finger…

"Why do you do this to me, Granger," he whispered huskily, more to himself than to the girl in front of him.

It was more of a statement than a question, really, yet Granger did not open her eyes, merely sighing with evident satisfaction. Draco felt electricity pass through his body and his stomach squirmed vigorously… a feeling he had never before experienced in such intensity…

He forcefully pushed Granger away from him, eyeing her with horrified eyes and she was quick to return the expression.

They both looked at each other, each getting lost in the other's deep, profound orbs…

But soon Draco plunged back into the darkness, and he knew that this time, it was inescapable…

* * *

**A/N:** Hey hey! Okay so I've deceived you – I said the chapters would get much shorter but in truth this is the longest chapter I've ever written! Argh I'm horrible aren't I! I just hope that wasn't too tedious or painful for you all! Thank you for the wonderful reviews you really make my day J Hehehehe. Okay so I just wanted to say that there is still much much more to come so don't be disappointed and I can no longer assure you of the length of this chapter, I had lots of fun writing it and the duel was initially much longer than what you have just read now but I cut it down immensely so that the chapter would in turn be shorter. I love writing this story so its not like I'm gonna stop, hopefully some of you have picked up on the hints I've left here and there so yeah, until next time – ciao! Oh and no they are not gonna fall in love in the next chapter, even though they're gonna come around eventually sigh . Oh and just wanted to say something to:

**Piper-Lorenna:** Thanks for the review and good job for spotting that little sentence about Draco wanting to kill Voldemort! No, I assure you that was not a typo - Draco really felt that way. And I have a good reason for writing it like that (partly because Draco was so angry but you know thats only half the story!), but you will find out in good time as to the reason why I wrote it. In the mean time, keep reading and thanks for reviewing (sorry everything is so mysterious and hazy at the moment!)


	12. MuchAwaited Resurrections

**Disclaimer:** Okay so I disclaim all the Harry Potter characters coz they belong to Miss Rowling and I most certainly do not make a profit from them and this goes for all of the story. All I own is the plot and the prickling (mewhahaha).

**Title of Story: **When Darkness Catches the Light

**Summary:** Can two sworn enemies ever find true love in each other? What happens when a seductive mission comes along to prod them in the right direction? Draco/Hermione

**Rated:** PG-13 for language, angst descriptions and some sexual connotations.

* * *

**Chapter Twelve:** Much-Awaited Resurrections 

_I can be a mystery_

_Cover up my heart_

_Never show my emotions_

_Always keep you in the dark_

_--Just As I Am, Guy Sebastian_

"Lucky for him you were there, Miss Granger, otherwise Mr Malfoy could very well have died. But no worry, he should be well enough in the morning."

Hermione merely nodded her head in response to Madam Pomfrey's words, the notion of Malfoy's possible death from the night's events still ringing like an alarm in her mind.

She glanced over at one of the Hospital Wing beds, surveying the sleeping form of Malfoy with some relief. He looked so peaceful and docile, simply lying there with tight bandages on his slender limbs and his face covered in a cold sweat.

It was a sight that caused Hermione's heart to ache excruciatingly.

She rubbed her eyes that had suddenly begun to prickle and looked over at Ron in his bed directly opposite Malfoy's, by the window.

He looked in a much better state than Malfoy, even though in truth his condition was worse. His body had not yet fully recovered from the splash of the acid and it would apparently take a few weeks to derive all of the foreign substance from his veins.

Hermione trembled as a cold draft passed swiftly through the open window by Ron's bed and she paced shakily up to it and closed it. It was true that her hands hadn't stopped quivering since the time that she had conjured stretchers for the two boys to travel toward the Hospital Wing.

_I am so stupid, _Hermione weakly reprimanded herself. _I could have stopped the duel. I am so STUPID!_

She looked down at Ron's sleeping form, intently watching as his chest rose and descended rhythmically with his breathing. His face was pallid, the faint sprinkling of freckles on the bridge of his nose being the only flagrant colour on it.

Hermione grimaced as she noted the slight green tinge of the acid on the skin of Ron's arms and stomach and she unconsciously smoothed the moist hair on his head, but immediately withdrew her hand as a sharp spasm of prickling shot up her arm.

"Well, Miss Granger," Madam Pomfrey said, briskly moving toward Hermione. "Tell me again how you came to find these two."

Hermione did not answer immediately, still looking over Ron's sleeping form. She felt an enormous feeling of guilt well up inside of her, asphyxiating all of her senses of happiness and innocence.

She could very well have done something to prevent all of this from happening – but she _hadn't_. She could very well have done something to protect Ron – but she _hadn't_. She could very well have done something to deter both boys' notions to duel – but again, she hadn't done anything of the sort.

It was _her_ fault Ron was here, nearly dead from all the strange acid that had accumulated in his body.

It was _her_ fault that Malfoy was here, too.

_Me and my stupid 'feelings',_ Hermione scowled, hating herself for ever thinking that Malfoy was really a good person inside.

_So then why did I go to comfort him instead of Ron?_

"Oh, I just found them like that on the Astronomy Tower on my nightly patrolling, but I don't know how they got there," Hermione lied, trying to stop her voice from cracking with poignancy.

Madam Pomfrey nodded, though somehow Hermione could tell that she was disbelieving of the account. The matron bustled over to one of the benches near Malfoy's bed and she poured a steaming liquid down the boy's throat.

Malfoy stirred, coughing vigorously and clutching his throat, but Hermione was glad to note that he was at least still alive.

She sighed and paced back to her chair in the middle of both beds, twiddling her thumbs absent-mindedly.

"Now, normally I would not allow a student to stay overnight in the Hospital Wing, but I need someone to keep an eye on these two while I am away," Madam Pomfrey declared, rousing Hermione from her thoughts. "I assume you know how to perform basic sleeping and healing charms?"

Hermione glanced up at the matron, whose usual expression of severity had been replaced with a questioning one.

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey," Hermione nodded.

The matron turned around and walked out the door, her departure causing the overhead lighting to dim automatically.

Hermione sighed her relief, as she felt as though her every movements were no longer being analysed, and she instinctively paced toward Malfoy's bed and looked down upon his snoozing body.

Her heart clenched as she noticed the blood stained bandages on Malfoy's arms and chest, how his skin seemed marred abhorrently by each graze and wound. Hermione massaged his upper arm mechanically and observed with some astonishment that the boy's face seemed to mangle in a snarl and he pulled away from her touch, weakly though it was true.

Hermione withdrew her hand immediately, embarrassed at the boy's actions and glanced momentarily at Ron's sleeping form on the other side of the room, reassured to note that he was still fast asleep…

She looked back at Malfoy and a smile crept across her face.

_He looks just like an angel..._

Hermione pulled a stool toward Malfoy's bed, as though some ethereal force drew her to it, and she rested her head on the sheets near his feet, smoothing out the wrinkles gingerly with her hand and wondering when the boy beside her would finally wake from his deep slumber…

* * *

_Draco was falling._

_The intricacies of the sky he passed on the way down were but a blur, but the colours… well, 'they' were something._

_First, the sky was all black. It made Draco's head throb unrelentingly, and pain beyond anything he had ever experienced was spreading throughout his entire body. _

_He closed his eyes tightly, just as moisture began dripping continuously from them and smarted his cheeks. The feeling jolted Draco to his senses, and when he opened his eyes, he gasped when saw that his tears were in truth, made of blood. But the blood was so… 'empty' and 'unfulfilling'…_

_Draco shook his head furiously, just as he began to note that the colour surrounding him was now changing... the sky seemed to be lightening to a grey colour, and the rivers of blood stemming from his eyes were immediately halted. Draco felt somewhat relieved, though still scared, as the area near his navel seemed like it was going to detonate any second…_

_And just when the speed of his descent was accelerated, Draco noted that the colour of the sky was now fading to a faint pink colour… Draco's heart felt like it was soaring, all of his emotions seemed to be ignited, the butterflies seemed to flutter in his stomach and all his worries seemed to escape him…_

_And then he splashed into a lake; the water was cool to the touch, almost icy, and upon impact with his body, the ripples on the otherwise static surface diverged incessantly, with seemingly no end…_

_Draco clambered out of the water, his mauve robes drenched and spraying moisture on the stony floor of the desert…_

_'Desert? But… what about the water…?'_

_Draco turned abruptly, eager to see whether the pond was still behind him – but it wasn't! There was just a single, large cactus plant, reaching endlessly up to the sky above that was clearly illuminated by the sweltering sun…_

_Draco glanced back at his robes to check if they were still saturated with moisture but – he was naked!_

_'Aargh!', he thought abashedly, covering up the more private regions of his body and hastily scanning the dry Spinifex lands for prying eyes…_

_But no one was there… he was all 'alone'…_

_The agoraphobic nature of the situation seemed to asphyxiate Draco's very senses, and he gasped for more of the harsh desert air… no matter how much it was indeed beginning to puncture his thirsty lungs…_

_Draco gazed back at the cactus plant, momentarily admiring the large spikes protruding from its exterior before a feeling of dread settled itself in his body… His breathing stopped from sheer surprise at the sudden cold sentiment…_

_He knew deep down, he 'had' to climb this infernal thing. It felt like a moral obligation, though Draco knew it would be difficult. Not to mention completely foreign and unfamiliar to his senses…_

_But somehow, for some reason, he knew that once he had climbed the tree… he would in turn become superior… That - although he attempted to shift the notion from his mind - he knew that once he got to the top, he would be absolutely 'fine'…_

_Draco gasped once more at the utter vastness of the cactus plant, before resting the sole of one of his aching feet on a spike of the tree. A blazing tremor of torture rippled swiftly through his body and he screamed, the noise seeming absolutely bloodcurdling and alien when it reached his own ears…_

_He shook his head vigorously, just as the sky around him blackened once more, and he ignored the tears that were streaming hysterically down his cheeks, and swung his other foot on an even higher spike. But this time…_

_This time… the pain was inconceivably excruciating._

_Pain… beyond any pain that which he had previously experienced… A pain that seemed at once to vaporise his blood, shrivel his skin and rupture his bones…_

_Draco sobbed audibly, breathing in the abrasive air around him with an insatiable thirst… trying to ignore the fact that every nerve in his body felt as if it was on fire…_

_He swallowed the accumulating saliva in his mouth and closed his eyes firmly against his resolve to step down from the cactus plant._

_No… it would be a better place… up 'there'…_

_Somehow, after enduring the pain of what seemed like eternal lashings from a whip of frozen, wintry ice, Draco reached what he believed to be the mid-way point of the cactus plant, and he permitted himself a quick rest._

_He barely noticed that the sky around him was lightening to a grey, pasty colour…_

_Draco stifled another sob that was threatening to escape him and hurled his foot on the next spike and he noted with immense relief that the pain was starting to become tolerable…_

_In fact… the sensation he experienced seemed almost thrilling and… 'pleasurable'…_

_Draco hastily placed his other foot on the next 'rung' of the cactus, hoping that the lack of pain would not be fleeting… and he was glad to note that the feelings of thrill and pleasure seemed to only intensify…_

_But out of the blue, a sharp twinge of pain struck Draco in the nape of his neck, as transient as a bolt of lightening and he gasped out of surprise and plunged steadily down from his stance on the mid-way point of the cactus…_

_No!… Was… so… 'close'…_

_He was falling again…_

_Back to the blackness below…_

* * *

"_NO_!" 

Hermione woke up abruptly, upon hearing the shrillness of the voice that came from the person beside her, to find that it was a new day. She had been dreaming of doves and love hearts, her arms pleasurably squishing the strangely spongy bed beneath her, and she was more than incensed at having to escape the lands of what she hoped would be the future…

She sprang from the bed, eyeing Malfoy cautiously as he sat upright, his widened eyes scanning the room hastily. Hermione felt her heart dip as she noted his trepidation.

"_D-Draco_?" she ventured, the boy's first name rolling off her tongue before she could stop herself from uttering it.

The boy beside her swiftly glanced her way, the elegant strands of blonde hair falling delectably into his silver-blue eyes. Those eyes… they were looking at _her_ again…

"_Granger_? _You_? What the fuck… where's the bloody cactus gone?"

Hermione, whose heart had begun to melt at the sight of Malfoy's beautiful eyes, felt her heart harden back again, agonisingly. She fused her eyebrows together, trying to maintain control of the anger that was welling up inside her.

"Huh? What cactus?" she responded dazedly, glancing around the room again in a hope to comprehend what Malfoy was saying.

He steadily sunk back onto his pillow, patting the squashy bed underneath him, before nodding slightly and he again looked over at Hermione, his eyebrow raised questioningly at her. She swallowed.

"Well, what are _you_ doing here Granger? Hang on – what am _I_ doing here?"

Hermione did not answer immediately. She shifted her gaze away from the silver-blue orbs that had begun to bore into her own, and took a seat on the stool beside Malfoy's bed. She did not notice the condescending smirk that had spread suddenly over his face, but she didn't need to.

"Granger, haven't you learnt yet?" he whispered menacingly. "A Mud-_muggle_ must always _stand_ in the presence of a superior. I don't remember saying you could sit, and mind, I _do_ have an exceptional memory."

Hermione winced as the words were acknowledged in her mind and she stood up from her stool, not even caring when it clattered to the floor. She felt so enraged at that very moment – felt like her mind was being submerged in flames of unrelenting fury…

"Screw _you_ Malfoy!" she shrieked, eyeing the somewhat-surprised boy in front of her with revulsion. "I saved your freaking life and _this_ is the thanks I get?"

Malfoy fused his eyebrows together, as if not daring to believe a word she had just said. Hermione followed suit in her expression. Either Malfoy was really shocked, or he didn't want to believe her and he was just a good actor…

"What did you say, Granger?" he murmured, his eyes clouding over in an impenetrable mask.

Hermione sighed. She really hated all these mind games, if that was truly what they were.

How could she tell Malfoy that _she_ was the one who cursed Ron into a mild sleeping state so that she could heal _him_ without interruption and bring him up to the Hospital Wing so that he would in turn not… _not_…

"You don't remember the duel?" she asked, uncertain as to where she should begin.

Malfoy tilted his head slightly to the side, and it was obvious to Hermione that he was trying to remember.

_He looks so freaking adorable…_

"_Duel_…" Malfoy repeated blankly, more to himself than to Hermione. "Yeah… I _think_ I remember something… with the Weasel, right?"

Hermione grimaced at the connotation before forcing herself to nod. Malfoy sighed.

"Yeah I remember… so he nearly killed me, huh?" he said, forcing a tone of amusement into his voice.

But Hermione was quick to decipher the façade.

"Yeah," was all she managed to utter before she steadied the stool and took her seat next to Malfoy's bed, hoping he wouldn't make another snide comment at her blatant muggle-born heritage.

And fortunately, he didn't.

"And you claim to have saved my life?" Malfoy whispered, his voice cracking as it spoke the last few words.

Hermione felt a lump in her throat at the memory, and nodded. Oh, how scared she had been when she saw Malfoy fall limply to the ground… how pallid his face had been and how lifeless his eyes seemed to be…

"I see," Malfoy again whispered, so inaudibly that Hermione had to lean forward slightly to hear him.

Hermione nodded again.

"So how are you feeling now?" she squeaked.

Malfoy glowered at her.

"I was just fucking _resurrected_ Granger, how do you think I would feel?!" he hissed only slightly louder than before, lifting his arms exasperatedly in the air.

"Oh stop being so melodramatic!" Hermione snapped, just as Malfoy appeared as though he were about to slap her.

He then halted his actions brusquely and only then seemed to have noticed the tight bandages on his slender limbs. And the distinct red spots on them. Hermione cringed.

"He made me bleed… that son-of-a-bitch made me _bleed_," Malfoy whispered, his voice hinted with suppressed menace.

Hermione stood up once more from her stool and Malfoy flinched slightly at her terse movements.

"Oh yeah? Well good one Malfoy, 'cause _you_ nearly killed Ron too!" she screeched, signalling Ron sleeping on his bed across the room.

"And oh how I wish I would have succeeded," he snapped back, his voice equally vehement.

Hermione stepped up to Malfoy's bed and leaned over the boy, their faces only inches apart. His breath was warm and fresh, but could do nothing to pacify Hermione even the slightest.

"Don't ever fucking say _that_ again," she whispered severely, eyeing Malfoy with deep distaste.

Malfoy recoiled ever so subtly, his eyes wide with undisguised horror and he unconsciously lifted up one of his slender, pale fingers to point at the area between Hermione's eyes. His evident fear made Hermione's heart plunge and she quickly retreated from her position, smoothing some of the curls of brown hair that had escaped the hair tie out of her face.

"_I'm sorry_," she managed to gasp, before moving to head out the door of the infirmary.

* * *

Draco snarled.

Granger had once again put him in a foul mood. Even though he somewhat regretted the condescending remarks he had thrown at her, she had managed to look as though she could kill him with one blow of her tongue. And those eyes…

They had flashed that blue fire again…

What did the Dark Lord say that meant? That she was coming of age?

Draco shook his head out of the thought and glanced at Weasley across the room. He could not see the boy's body, just his greenish, ashen face. Draco's stomach did uncomfortable somersaults.

He looked at his own mangled limbs in disgust.

How could he have been so weak as to let this happen to himself? Why had he not fought the damn red-haired fool? For Draco knew he certainly had the ability to inflict critical wounds on someone but… why hadn't he done anything of the sort last night?

_I just cast that stupid acid fountain shit,_ he scowled.

Draco didn't even know why he had performed the said curse. He could have cast all the other – _legal_ - dark magic he had been studying over the holidays, but _no_… he had decided to simply make Weasley gargle and spurt weak acid…

Draco shifted awkwardly on his bed, the task proving somewhat tedious, as he could not make full use of his arms. He sighed exasperatedly and flung his arms down by his sides.

He tried to remember just what had happened during the duel, but the memories only came into his mind as sudden projections that faded almost instantaneously. It was like he was under some memory charm…

Draco seemed to remember some… _crying_… yes, that was it. Crying. It had been so heart-wrenching, the sound of those sobs… Each one had cut into Draco's heart like a blade…

_The blades_… he remembered them too… He remembered how his heart had dipped well below his navel when he caught the sight of those knives coming straight for him… How everything else around him seemed to blur… All his attention was expended on those knives…

Draco shivered, though the sun was sweltering outside.

_A sweltering sun_. Now where had he seen that…?

But Draco shook his head vehemently, as the fatigue seemed to consume him and his body ached for sleep. But even as his body seemed to relax, it also tensed as he acknowledged the fact that his sleep would most certainly not be dreamless…

* * *

Hermione rubbed her temples, willing her throbbing migraine to disappear. 

She had only just come to her Extended Dark Arts Defence class when she was swarmed with questions of where she and Ron were last night. It would not have taken a genius to figure out what the Gryffindors assumed the couple were doing out so late in the evening, and this irked Hermione severely.

"Look, can you all just shut up for a second!?" she snapped, her tone of voice so cold that everyone stopped to stare at her.

Hermione sighed and smoothed some of the brown locks out of her face. She had just come out of the Hospital Wing, after having a sparring match with Malfoy about absolutely nothing and then she had to come to class, with all these imbeciles throwing nonsensical questions at her.

First, she had decided against telling them the truth. What would they think of a duel between the Head Boy and the Head Girl's boyfriend? She smiled grimly as she thought of the possibilities for wild rumours to emerge.

But finally, she decided she would only tell half of the truth. That meant that she wouldn't be lying, really. She would just say that Ron was feeling sick and was in the Hospital Wing. And this was most certainly not a complete lie.

"Okay, listen up and listen good 'cause I'm only going to be saying this once," she muttered, clutching her books close to her chest. "Ron is feeling sick, so he's in the Hospital Wing. I was out last night to help Madam Pomfrey to make him get better. Alright? So just shove those pathetically erotic rumours down your throats and make sure you don't vomit such garbage near me again."

Hermione herself was surprised at her own words and tone, but in truth, it had seemed like another person was talking, only it was using Hermione's voice to physically communicate the thoughts. It was indeed strange.

Everyone lining up outside the classroom looked blatantly shocked at the Head Girl's fiery outburst and they whispered to each other and pointed at Hermione, which did absolutely nothing to appease her growing irritation.

She felt Harry place a comforting hand on her shoulder but a fleeting prickling rippled through the limb and she retreated away from him, eyeing his confused face with one of fear.

Hermione moved toward the door, eagerly waiting for Professor Hereta to make her arrival but she had another something to infuriate her in the mean time.

"Poor Ron," Parvati said, her voice submerged in such genuine sorrow that made Hermione's eyebrows fuse together in perplexity.

Since when did Parvati care so much about Ron?

"Yeah, I know, it _is_ sad isn't it?" Lavender said edgily, shooting Hermione a look of pure contempt that Hermione was only too happy to return.

"I'll visit him later tonight, just to see how he's doing," Parvati continued, gazing haughtily at her perfectly manicured fingernails.

Hermione sighed and watched with immense relief as Professor Hereta walked towards the group of students.

* * *

"Draco, face me." 

Draco recoiled as he heard that voice. It was so callous, so harsh… and yet, so familiar…

"My Lord?"

He heard cacophonous laughter resound in the room. Was it a room? It just seemed like a realm of perpetual darkness. Draco could not see a thing, and it made him feel even more vulnerable. He gazed at his limbs and saw that he was still bandaged.

But then wait – how did he get here?

He was in the Hospital Wing bed just a moment ago; he could've sworn his life on it! Draco gazed at his limbs yet again and noted the _exact_ same bandages and grazes on his body. He looked just the same as before. But he didn't remember ever leaving the Hospital Wing to come here… Unless, of course…

"Well, I see at least Ronald Weasley did not mar your memory. Draco, would you care to tell your Lord why you are so injured? Why you have not kept in touch? _Why you have not obeyed your Lord's orders to gain Miss Granger's trust?"_

The last few words were emphasized with pure hatred and Draco flinched. How could he explain himself now, after that tough ordeal he had just undergone last night?

"Master," he began, choosing his words carefully.

But the words just wouldn't come out. For the first time in his life, Draco was utterly speechless.

"Speak, boy, speak, I do not deem your silence constructive," the voice said malevolently. "Tell your Lord why you have not followed instructions obediently, as is required of you."

Draco cringed at the tone.

"I don't know, sir," he managed to mumble.

The darkness still engulfed his body, and as the temperature suddenly plummeted, Draco could hear his teeth chattering. He closed his mouth firmly and clenched his hands into tight fists. He did not want the Dark Lord to sense his fear.

"Why is Granger not your friend yet, Draco?"

"I don't know, sir."

"Why have you not been trying your hardest to gain her trust, to seduce her, even?"

Draco flinched once more, an action that triggered his teeth to chatter once more. He could hear heavy breathing coming from somewhere in the room.

"I don't know, sir," was all Draco managed to whisper.

He heard fierce cackling in the room, a sound that caused his very eardrums to vibrate and tremble intensely. Draco raised his disfigured hands to massage his temples, an action that only granted momentary peace.

"We're getting rather repetitive now, aren't we, Draco?" the voice hissed. "I know you have a brain, otherwise I would not have chosen you for this mission. But lately it seems that your brain has absconded from your body. I want an answer, and I want it now: Why have you not followed your orders as of yet?"

Draco trembled as a draft of coldness swept his body. He needed to prolong the time to answer…

"My Lord, I request permission to first ask you a question."

The voice again laughed, its tone now more amusing rather than callous.

"This should be interesting, Draco. Permission granted."

Draco swallowed the growing lump inside his throat, and this seemed to ease his tension somewhat. He twiddled his thumbs absent-mindedly before he could think of a suitable question.

"How did I get here?" he blurted out, before he could stop himself.

Draco could hear a deep intake of air somewhere in the room, before the voice again spoke.

"Although I dare not admit it to anyone, Draco, I am feeble. Feeble in my human form. The elixirs and spells that are currently being prepared to restore me to my erstwhile immortal form are not seeming to function as per plan. So, no, I have not come from my abode to seek you in the Hospital Wing. That would be sheer folly, would you not agree? No, I have made use of a certain apparatus…"

And the voice trailed off, but Draco understood its meaning.

"My Lord, I request permission to ask a few more questions."

"Permission shall only be granted if I in turn have full privilege to ask my own questions, Draco."

Draco nodded and swallowed against his resolve. He had a million questions he wanted to have answered but he knew that asking all of them would certainly try the Lord's patience…

"Why the Mudblood, my Lord? Why not pursue Potter once more? Surely _he_ is more pertinent to your operation?"

Draco sensed swift movement in the room.

"Do not speak of blood heritage in my midst, Draco, and so recklessly at that," the voice hissed, before resuming a more even tone. "I have planned this for many years now, even intercepted Granger's mail over the summer break so that she would be weak enough for you to tamper with. Granger is my focus now, not Potter. And I need not validate my reasons for this to you, do you understand me, Draco?"

"Yes, sir."

There was another sharp intake of breath in the room, before the voice again rang out, its tone of voice strangely hinted with amusement.

"I am surprised at you, Draco."

Draco raised his eyebrows. What was the Lord talking about?

"You know very well what I am talking about," the Lord said lazily. "Deep within your… _heart_… you know…"

Draco suddenly felt a sharp pain on the nape of his neck and he massaged it vigorously, willing the pain to flee and never again come back…

"Draco answer me this: are you starting to _fancy_ your precious _'Mudblood'_? Is that why this is so _hard_ for you?" the voice murmured, its tone dripping with hilarity, before it once gain hardened. "Love is a _weakness_, Draco, a weakness that causes even the bravest man to cower away from danger. It is sheer weakness, Draco. Weakness."

Draco gritted his teeth and clenched his hands into tight fists.

"My Lord, I do not know what you speak of."

The voice cackled yet again.

"You seem to have forgotten the properties of the apparatus, Draco. The Heir of Slytherin knows all, and an intrusion on the mind is conducted more easily with the use of such a tool. You will discover soon what I speak of. But remember, Draco – I do not tolerate procrastination. Cast away these sentiments and follow the path to your glory – to _my_ glory. Do not disappoint me."

* * *

And as the Head Boy was far off in his realm of perpetual darkness, Hermione quickly downed her lunch and made her way to the Hospital Wing, careful to avoid attention from her fellow students. 

She was still thinking about Malfoy, and how he had been so rude to her, even after she had bloody saved his life. Just who did he think he was, ordeing her to ask permission to sit down in front of him and calling her an inferior all in the same breath?

She scowled as she rounded past a corner, clutching the straps of her bag on her shoulders for security. Hermione wanted to see how Ron was doing, as she was fairly sure that he would be at least awake by now.

She remembered how distant and sad Ginny had looked at the lunch table just before, eyeing her pastry with repulsion. It would have been hard for her, Hermione reasoned, to find out that her brother was in the Hospital Wing.

And this thought made Hermione stop in her tracks.

_I didn't tell Ginny about Ron. though_, she thought, frowning slightly. _So why else would she be upset? Unless…_

Her skin began to pale slightly. What if Ginny found out about Harry and Lavender? But as soon as the thought struck her mind, Hermione cast it away, chuckling as she thought how stupid she was to think that Harry would be that oblivious and heartless.

She resumed her brisk stride, glad that the corridors were relatively empty at this time and walked through the open door of the Hospital Wing. She saw Madam Pomfrey gaze at her in brief gravity before recognition dawned on her face and she smiled slightly.

"Ron is doing much better Hermione," she said, nodding in the respective boy's direction. "I'll just leave you two, I must go off and eat my lunch."

Hermione nodded and walked toward Ron's bed, eyeing Malfoy out of the corner of her eye. He was fast asleep, his hands clenched into fists and his mouth moving incessantly. This made her frown slightly, but she shook her head and looked down at Ron, whose eyes were only slightly open.

"Hi 'Mione," he whispered, the abbreviation making Hermione cringe nevertheless.

She nodded and patted his arm lightly.

"How are you doing?" she replied, forcing a smile on her face.

"You look beautiful," Ron murmured, and Hermione wondered if he had even heard her question.

His benevolence triggered a large, genuine smile on her face nonetheless and she sat on the flimsy stool next to his bed.

"How was class?" he continued, trying to sit up on his bed but failing.

Hermione grinned once more and massaged the skin on one of his arms. It was still slightly greenish, but appeared much better than what it was last night. Her hand began prickling and she withdrew her arm hastily.

"It was interesting," Hermione gasped matter-of-factly, clutching her pained hand with a fistful of robes.

Ron nodded slightly and turned over on his side so he could face Hermione.

"Hermione," he breathed, looking into her eyes with deep sincerity. "I had a really bad dream, you know?"

Hermione looked at him, her eyes willing him to continue. He understood her passive gesticulation immediately and motioned for her hand to clasp his own. She obliged reluctantly, trying to block out the intensifying tingling she was feeling in that very limb…

"One minute, everything was pink and I felt so happy, 'Mione," he wheezed, his eyes suddenly distant, "but then everything went black, you know? And I couldn't see your face anymore and it scared me."

Hermione felt her heart dip.

"Hermione," the boy continued, his eyes becoming more focussed on the girl beside him. "Tell me nothing bad will happen to us anymore. Tell me you love me, 'cause I sure as hell love you."

Hermione flinched at his demand, turning her attention away from Ron. She couldn't bear to see the unconditional love in those eyes… the compassion… the authenticity…

"I love you," she lied, her voice low but Ron caught every word.

He smiled broadly and squeezed her hand and Hermione had to stop the tears that were threatening to fall from her eyes at the agonising pain and prickling she felt with the close contact.

"Thank you, Hermione. Thank you for saying that."

* * *

**A/N:** It's the time to disco (woo hoo!) I got 140 reviews or thereabouts – yay! Thanks for the support people, its so great to see you like this story! 

Okay so now I gather that people like the long chapters, which is a relief because I like writing them long!

Okay so this chapter – I really hope you like it, because if I was being honest, I am not too happy with it myself. A lot of mystery and haziness in this one, and I know people are gonna throw a million questions at me but I'm sorry I can't answer them because it's all in the plot and you will find out in due time.

Oh and I hope people have guessed the apparatus, that would make my day hint hint hehehe.

Sorry to the people who think there is too much swearing, um maybe I should put the rating up to R? Can you tell me what you think in your reviews? The R rating is only for the swearing I have no intention of writing sex scenes for this story, sorry to disappoint smirk hehehe.

Oh and the part at the end between Ron and Hermione – was that too mushy? I tried to tone that down a bit coz I'm sure people have worked out that Hermione doesn't really like Ron as much any more dun dun dun! lol. So yeah sorry if that was intolerable to all you anti-ron-and-hermione-shippers - i feel you!

And on the advice of one of my wonderful reviewers – **Trent Davieson** -, I have decided to start up an email thingy where I will update you whenever I put up a chapter. So please put your email in your review and I shall oblige hehehe. If you do not want to divulge your email that's fine, I recommend checking the story every week or fortnightly for updates coz it will happen eventually people!

Okay this a/n is getting a tad long and I wonder whether people even read it lol so Im gonna go now thanks for reviewing and **REVIEW** this chapter too!


	13. The Unexpected Invitation

**Disclaimer:** (I remembered to put this in! Wow… gee I'm on a roll…) Okay so the usual – I don't own the Harry Potter characters, they belong to Ms Rowling. So yeah, don't sue me. Coz I have no money anyway. And I know you don't too. Just kidding.

**Title of Story: **When Darkness Catches the Light

**Summary:** Can two sworn enemies ever find true love in each other? What happens when a seductive mission comes along to prod them in the right direction? Draco/Hermione

**Rated:** PG-13 for language, angst descriptions and some sexual connotations.

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen:** The Unexpected Invitation

_Wipe the floors with fake type rappers, they aint moving the crowd  
i showed you before, plus im proving it now (and smoothing it out)  
I still bring the ruckus to this and while you home on the couch (i stay up in the mix)  
you got a bad attitude, thats something to fix  
--Bang This, J-Wess_

A few more weeks passed by effortlessly for Hermione. Nothing exciting happened, nothing completely out of the blue happened, and that was exactly the way she wanted things to be. Predictable, and perhaps even a little bit boring. But still safe, nonetheless.

Hermione had visited Ron in the Hospital Wing occasionally, their chitchat idle and courteous, but still hardly affectionate, which was indeed to Hermione's liking also. His condition had improved somewhat, to a stable stage, but Madam Pomfrey insisted that Ron rest in the Hospital Wing for at least another week, until his recovery was absolute.

Hermione brought Ron his homework nearly every day, dutifully assisting in teaching him the work he needed to catch up on to maintain an at least average level of understanding in the class. This, as anticipated, was to Ron's fervent distaste, yet Hermione could not bear to see him fail his upcoming NEWT exams.

Though she would have never admitted it, there was another reason to Hermione's daily visits to the Hospital Wing. And deep down, she knew Ron was just her alibi to sate this reason.

Hermione was in actual fact very worried about Malfoy. She often saw him writhing and glowering in his sleep, and though his condition was rapidly improving, the elegant contours of his face were often mangled in intense fear and anger…

He never looked the part of an angel anymore.

Hermione shivered as she walked out of the Head common room bathroom, her damp hair swathed in a light blue towel and her creamy skin glistening with moisture. She took great luxury in bathing and dressing in her common room these days, as Malfoy was not around to make his rude and sudden appearances.

She sighed forlornly as she paced toward her room, bolting the door behind her with a well-chosen spell and letting her soft, moist tresses cascade gracefully down her back. Her eyes closed artlessly as she remembered how Malfoy liked her hair to be left down. If only he were here…

Hermione shook her head furiously out of the thought, observing with mild amusement as droplets flew wildly off her hair onto the furniture in her room.

Yet no matter how much she denied it, her growing feelings for the notoriously blonde-haired boy would just not leave her.

Even though he had been obnoxious and indifferent toward her the morning after the duel – despite indeed finding out that she had actually _saved_ his bloody life – he had not at all altered his bigoted attitude toward her.

_I guess some people just don't change,_ she sighed, clambering into her black robes and fastening the buttons with care.

Hermione tied her slightly damp hair in a loose ponytail, granted herself a quick mirror inspection, before walking out of the common room door.

She aimlessly glanced over her timetable and was irked to note that she had Advanced Potions first. Yet it appeased her slightly that it was a joint class with the sixth years, so she knew that for once, she wouldn't be the only Gryffindor in class.

Hermione turned a corner, the sweet aroma of freshly baked bread and muffins wafting toward her nose and making her stomach grumble vulgarly.

She entered the Great Hall with her head held high, hoping that the said stature would douse some of the snide and sarcastic comments now being frequently uttered to her by some of the stupidest, most uncouth students in the school.

Namely, Lavender and Parvati.

Hermione could identify with Lavender's animosity. The two had never been close friends, but the antagonism had most certainly intensified when Harry had entered the picture. Hermione had still not divulged the secret of Harry's affair to Ginny, though sometimes she wondered where exactly her true loyalties should indeed lie.

As for Parvati, that was a more obscure case. Parvati had always vexed Hermione deeply with her self-infatuation and patent vanity, but lately their rapport had reached the level of open hostility – something Hermione was certainly not grateful for.

"Hi," Ginny said somewhat placidly, as Hermione took a seat beside her.

Hermione smiled broadly at the red haired girl, hoping her façade of happiness would not be deciphered, but Ginny didn't grant her any further acknowledgement.

Ginny had indeed been acting distant lately, though Hermione simply put it down to frenzied worry about Ron and an excessive increase in workload. She knew sixth had been relatively difficult for her, too.

Hermione reached over for a peach and apricot muffin, closing her eyes as she devoured the wonderful smell of her breakfast.

"Normally one chooses to _eat_ food, Hermione, rather than to _smell_ it."

There was laughter at the Gryffindor table at Parvati's spiteful remark, a remark that Hermione did not deem even the slightest hilarious.

"Hermione," Ginny murmured, her eyes still fixed on the intricate pattern of a fruit bowl on the border of her plate. "Have you got _any_ idea where Harry is?"

Hermione swallowed the morsel of food in her mouth rather quickly.

"Erm," she began, though she didn't need to respond.

"Honestly, Ginny, Harry doesn't _need_ to be patrolled around all the bloody time by a freaking satellite like _you_," Lavender hissed, her index finger performing a circular motion and her head bobbing crazily from side to side.

Hermione felt her eyes narrow at the girl's flagrant disrespect.

"Don't talk to my friend like that, Lavender, 'cause maybe then _I_ will do the talking for the _both_ of us," Hermione said, her voice sarcastically sweet.

Lavender's eyes widened slightly and she coughed, looking away from the two girls across the table. Yet Parvati wasn't so dismissive.

"Are you threatening my best friend?" she whispered dangerously.

Hermione chortled.

"And do you _really_ want that question to be answered?" she responded, her voice equally as hateful.

"Hermione, its okay, let's just go," Ginny muttered, pulling Hermione out of her seat and toward the exit of the Great Hall.

Hermione was only too happy to comply. No matter how much she wanted to pulverise the powdered, pretty face of Parvati Patil, she knew better than to endanger her Headship position, and especially for such trivial matters and for such trivial people.

* * *

Draco bolted up from the Hospital Wing bed, his body trembling and face covered in a moist film of sweat.

He had just had a bad dream. _Again_. It seemed like every time he laid his head down on the cushiony pillow of his infirmary bed, he was in turn subjecting himself to another night of pure angst and torture…

Draco wiped his forehead with his quivering hand, somewhat astonished by the presence of moisture on it.

His dream had been of the Dark Lord again… but this time they had not talked.

This time, Draco had been put under the Cruciatus Curse.

He whimpered faintly and shuffled around under the heavy sheets of his bed, trying to forget about the intense pain he had felt when put under the infamous curse. But the memory was hardly quick to abscond.

The pain had been so agonising. It had felt like the vessels of blood in his body were boiling with indomitable heat. It had felt like his brain was expanding hysterically against a constricted skull. It had felt like he would never emerge to see the light from the darkness ever again…

Draco turned over on his side, noting with some relief the absence of bandages on his limbs. The dearth most certainly granted him additional mobility, and he was more than appreciative for that fact.

He glanced out the window across from his bed, observing with scorn the blistering sun illuminating the lush Hogwarts Grounds below. A part of him still loathed the warming radiance of the light. The same part that still revelled in the cold of the darkness…

Draco smiled vaguely as he remembered that he would be leaving the Hospital Wing today. Leaving the nauseating smells of the exotic medicines and the smothering nature of the pure, white coloured bed spreads and blankets.

He sighed as he recollected his thoughts about the mission. He really _had_ to get a move on; the Dark Lord had taught him a grave lesson about not following orders obediently.

And Draco never wanted to experience that particular lesson ever again.

* * *

As soon as the girls entered an empty corridor, Ginny burst into tears, a raucous sound that brought Hermione out of her sadistic thoughts.

"Gin, it's okay, what's wrong?" Hermione implored gently, watching as the red haired girl slid slowly down the wall and sobbed onto her bent knees.

The girl continued to cry, each sound cutting into Hermione's heart like a serrated knife.

"Is it Ron?" Hermione said, not wanting to risk spilling the beans on Harry to Ginny so soon.

Ginny shook her head slightly.

"Schoolwork? I'll help you with it if you like, sixth year is a tad hard," Hermione urged, squatting down beside Ginny's weeping figure and patting her back tenderly.

Ginny again shook her head and looked up at Hermione. She wiped the dark streams of wet mascara flowing down her cheeks with the sleeves of her robes and sniffed.

"Nah, I'm just worried about Harry," she whispered, looking down again at the floor.

Hermione sighed.

"He's just so… detached, from me," Ginny murmured, and Hermione wondered whether she was indeed talking to herself. "It's like he doesn't love-"

Hermione pulled Ginny's chin so that she was looking at her.

"Hey, it's gonna be alright, Gin," she whispered reassuringly, smiling at the trembling girl beside her.

Ginny nodded, as if trying to convince herself of the same sentiment, but she looked back at Hermione, her eyebrow raised slightly. Hermione felt her heart dip in foreboding.

"Hey 'Mione, do you know why Harry's acting so strange?"

Hermione winced at the abbreviation and looked away from the girl.

_Tell her now, Hermione. See how upset she is? You gotta just be honest and get this all out in the open…_

"Er," she began, her throat constricting the words from escaping her mouth. "No," she said finally, standing back up and dusting the invisible dirt off her robes.

Ginny nodded and straightened her legs out in front of her body. She pulled the frayed hem of her robes down neatly to her ankles, smoothing out the creases absent-mindedly with her hands.

"Come on, we better go to class," Hermione murmured ultimately, offering Ginny her hand.

Ginny smiled and accepted, standing up gawkily and wiping her cheeks once more.

"Eurgh, what a waste of make up," she laughed, and Hermione chuckled too, as both girls reluctantly made their way to their joint Advanced Potions class that morning.

* * *

Draco barely endured the Advanced Potions class.

The tedious droning of Professor Snape was not being absorbed by his mind. His undivided attention and thoughts were directed only at the brunette seated on the opposite side of the classroom…

_Granger_.

Her brown curls were tied up slackly, moist strands of hair escaping the green band and falling stylishly onto her slender neck. Draco had the deep urge to entwine the loose strands in his fingers, but he shook his head out of the emotion. Granger's body was leaned forward slightly in an almost vigilant stance, and this amused Draco greatly.

He leaned back in his chair, stretching his toned arms above his head and passed his hand through his limp hair. He was sitting next to Pansy Parkinson (against his will, of course) after she had showered him with admiration and compassion as he had made his way to the Great Hall for breakfast that morning.

Many people had asked Draco why he had indeed been in the infirmary all these weeks, and he was surprised at the inquiries. Surely Granger would have concocted some crackpot story by now as to why two archenemies were in the Hospital Wing at the same time?

It was almost as soon as the slander entered his mind that Draco cast it away angrily. Granger would never do something like that. She was pure and honest; hardly capable of fabricating wicked rumours to appease a hungry crowd.

Draco had not answered their questions, for he was not in a mood to handle a repeat of the entire ordeal in his mind. He did not want to be reminded of those chilling blades again…

He sighed and dipped his feather into the green inkpot on the upper right-hand corner of his piece of parchment. The ink was thin and of a brilliant jade colour. His favourite colour.

Draco submerged the quill in the inkpot again and again, swilling the point of the feather around the inside of the pot.

"Draco baby, what are you _doing_?" Pansy cooed in his ear, not even bothering to conceal her impatience.

Draco glared at the parchment in front of him, pulling his hand out of the girl's grasp and flexing his fingers with relief. She was really beginning to piss him off, at a time that necessitated his utmost concentration.

He was trying to think of ways to seduce Granger.

He had realised by now that the brunette would only respond to romantic, subtle gestures and not full-blown physical exchanges. And this in turn meant that he would have to be more compassionate and sensitive toward her. Draco grimaced at the mere thought.

"Professor Snape," came a deep, pleasant voice from the front of the room.

Draco hastily looked up from his parchment to note the owner of the voice. He fought to suppress the glare that was steadily spreading across his face.

"Headmaster," Professor Snape wheezed, the patience in his tone growing thin.

Dumbledore nodded and smiled at the students in the class. Draco felt that he was looking specifically at him, and he felt slightly disturbed at the notion.

"I'm sorry for the interruption, Severus," Dumbledore murmured, looking back at Professor Snape. "Yet this disturbance is more than necessitated for. I wish to borrow the Head Boy and Girl for a few moments if I may."

Professor Snape did not look as if he was going to agree.

"I suppose so," he spat, taking his seat behind his desk.

Dumbledore smiled and motioned for Draco to move from his seat. Draco felt his feet grow roots to the ground, but as he saw Granger pace toward the door, he glowered and followed suit, leaving his quill immersed jauntily in the slender, jade inkpot on his desk.

* * *

Hermione strode silently behind Dumbledore, her head bowed down low and her hands grasping the straps of her bags edgily. Malfoy was walking a few feet beside her, his gait brisk and somewhat overbearing. Hermione glared at the floor.

She did not know where they were going, but Dumbledore was one of the few people that she placed her complete faith in.

Hermione turned a corner, listening as their shoes were making a loud clattering sound against the tiled surface of the floor. Her own shoes were scuffed below the black leather layer, and they reminded her strongly of Ron's shoes. She sighed.

"I am dreadfully sorry that I had to disturb you two in the middle of an important lesson," Dumbledore said genially, opening the door to one of the nearby classrooms.

Hermione felt a lump in her throat so she merely nodded and took a seat at one of the desks in the front row of the classroom. Dumbledore sat behind the teacher's desk, fumbling to open a scroll of beige parchment and putting his pince-nez eyeglasses on. Hermione thought he played the part of a professor beautifully.

She saw out of the corner of her eye that Malfoy was about to take a seat three desks away from her. But as soon as he pulled out the chair, he hesitated for some reason before pushing the chair back in and moving to sit one desk apart from Hermione.

She felt her cheeks grow red against her resolution, and she looked over at Malfoy in confusion and he smiled graciously at her.

_Oh my god... did he just 'smile' at me or is that his newfound way of frowning...?_

"I just called this brief meeting because I am expected in Geneva for an important meeting of Wizardry tonight," Dumbledore murmured, eyeing the two students in front of him with interest. "I was just wondering whether the two of you have come up with any ideas to do with the ball we will have later this year."

Hermione felt her face go even redder. She had completely forgotten about the ball! What was she going to say to Dumbledore now?!

"Erm," she stuttered, before she felt a lump rise in her throat.

Malfoy coughed beside her.

"You see, Professor, the thing is," Malfoy continued, looking at Hermione with a raised eyebrow before fixing his gaze on Dumbledore, "I've been in the Hospital Wing for the past few weeks, so we both haven't had much time to discuss any of our plans, but as the ball is much later this year, I assure you that this inconvenience will not prove to be too critical."

Hermione's eyes widened.

_Oh my God... did he just cover for me...?_

"Well actually, Mr Malfoy, that was another point I wanted to pose today," Dumbledore said, taking his pince-nez glasses off and twirling them in his slender fingers. "I have decided to move the ball to a closer date, as to allow enough time to study for exams and NEWT tests and the like. I'm sure students would be more than distracted if the date of the ball clashed with the dates of annual exams, now wouldn't you agree?"

Hermione nodded.

"So then how long do we have to plan this ball?" she muttered, looking up into Dumbledore's eyes.

He smiled at her and the expression lifted her low spirits slightly.

"I want everything finalised within the next two months, and I hope that is not asking too much of you," he said, massaging the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

Hermione and Malfoy both shook their heads and Dumbledore grinned at them.

"Excellent," he exclaimed, looking over the piece of parchment again.

Hermione let out an inaudible sigh of relief, but Dumbledore hastily looked back up at the two students in front of him, and Hermione was astonished to see a hint of apprehension in his bright eyes.

"I have not told you the minor condition of the ball, as of yet, have I?" he muttered, leaning slightly forward in his chair. "It is my wish that, as a sign of house unity and tradition, that the Head Boy and Girl attend the ball… together. I hope there are no qualms regarding this?"

Hermione gasped and she heard Malfoy commit the same action beside her. Dumbledore seemed to notice this and he coughed to avoid possible dispute on the matter.

"Well that's settled then," he said quickly, rising from his chair and opening the door of the classroom.

He extended his arm to usher the two students out of the room.

"I suggest you trot back to class as quick as you can, even though there is only quarter of an hour left of your lesson and it would probably take that long to in actual fact reach the dungeons," Dumbledore stated, closing the door once Hermione and Malfoy had moved out. "Once again, I am sorry for disrupting your lecture."

And for the second time thus far, he left two shocked adolescents behind him as he quickly paced away from the situation.

* * *

Draco chanced a glance over at Granger and was amused to note that she had indeed been looking at him too. But as soon as their eyes locked gazes, Granger looked away shamefacedly. Draco smiled at her discomfiture.

"I guess we better go back to class then," he said, and he was somewhat surprised to acknowledge that he didn't have to force a tone of pleasantness in his voice.

It all came naturally.

"Yeah, I think so too," Granger muttered, her eyes still fixed on the floor.

Draco nodded and lead the way back to class, walking a few feet away from the girl but careful to assume the same speed as her.

The silence was awkward, but Draco found that he had about a million things he wanted to say to her – in order to complete the mission, of course – but he found Granger almost _intimidating_.

Like she was too good for him.

He scowled at the ironical thought and unconsciously quickened his pace but soon slowed down enough to allow Granger to catch up with him.

Draco looked over at her and was surprised to see that she was resolutely staring at the floor. She really _was_ ill at ease.

This is the your chance to initiate the mission Draco... you just got to go for it...

They continued to walk in a silence that was hardly companionable until Draco heard a small crashing sound from beside him. He quickly looked over to see that Granger's bag had split open and her books and parchment were drenched in deep purple ink.

Without further contemplation, Draco bent down to help the distressed girl, drying her books and repairing her bag with his wand. As they both reached for the same scroll of parchment, their hands came into contact with one another and Draco felt a faint ray of electricity pass through his arm and he quickly withdrew his hand.

Once everything had been neatly packed away, Granger swung the bag over her back yet again.

"Thanks," she muttered, the focus of her gaze still being the tiled floor beneath their feet.

Draco smiled again at her embarrassment.

They walked once more in stillness, until Draco knew he had to break the ice.

"Hey Granger," Draco said tentatively. "I never did get to thank you for saving my life that night, did I?"

Granger looked up at him hastily and smiled. Draco felt his stomach squirm.

_Wow... she sure is a real knockout when she smiles..._

"Does that mean you're thanking me _now_?" she said, raising her eyebrow up at him.

He couldn't help but laugh.

"Yeah, I suppose so," Draco yielded, shrugging his shoulders.

Granger shook her head in mirth and looked back down at the floor, but Draco was pleased to see that she at least had a smile on her face now and her stature was somewhat less stiff.

And Draco had the strange inclination to make her smile again.

"You know Granger-"

"We're probably only-"

The two laughed as they realised they had spoken at the same time. Draco was astounded as he felt as though he could talk to this girl perpetually for the rest of his life but at the same time she daunted him so much.

"You go first," Granger said sheepishly, looking back down at the floor.

Draco felt his heart dip in shame.

"You know, I would ideally say 'ladies first', but I see no ladies around here," he smirked, trying to lighten the mood.

Granger narrowed her eyes at him and punched him lightly on his arm. Draco recoiled as he felt faint electricity ripple through his body again and he widened his eyes at her.

_Why am I feeling this way around you..._

"I'm sorry," she whispered, moving away from the boy and quickening her pace.

Draco felt a sudden urge to pull her back and he did just that.

She looked at her slender limb in his hand with fused eyebrows before looking up at him. Her skin was so creamy and soft, like velvet. Draco could not help but caress it lightly with his thumb. He desperately wanted to undo the band in her hair, but resisted the temptation.

Granger was shorter than him, and he felt a strange sentiment against tainting her purity. Their faces were about two inches away from each other and Draco could clearly see the fear embedded in the depths of those otherwise warm, brown eyes…

He let go of her arm, but she stood her ground nevertheless.

"Listen, Granger," Draco began, but he felt a lump amounting in his throat.

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly and watched with amazement as Granger's eyes closed and she sighed, before opening her eyes again. And Draco was relieved to see that there was no fear those orbs anymore.

"Even after you saved my life and everything, I acted like a complete jerk to you," Draco muttered, hating the feeling of exposing his emotions to the girl beside him. "And… really, I just want to get to know you better. We're Head Boy and Girl now, and Dumbledore's right – we have to show everyone the importance of unity…"

Draco was staggered at the spontaneous nature that all his words seemed to possess… as though, by some bizarre twist of fate, he actually _believed_ what he was saying…

He shook his head slightly, gathering his thoughts into some sort of distinguishable order, before continuing.

"Well what I'm trying to say is…" Draco resumed, swallowing the growing lump in his throat and hoping a cold breeze would sweep over to cool his flushed cheeks, "I'd really like us to be… _friends_. Is that okay with you?"

Granger finally looked away from Draco and she retreated slowly, until they were at a comfortable distance.

"But… but you _hate_ me," she stuttered, eyeing Draco with apprehension.

He winced at the strong sentiment implied by the girl.

_No Granger… I don't hate you… I never have… in fact, I think that 'maybe'… I might really…_

"I – don't," Draco said bluntly.

He watched with concealed horror as the brunette looked as though she were about to slap him any second. He hated himself for being the reason to account for Granger getting so upset.

"Don't… don't lie," Granger gasped, wiping her moist lips with the sleeve of her robes.

Draco cringed again.

"Don't you think this is hard enough for me?" he snapped, but he immediately regretted his words as he saw Granger's eyes widen in shock. "Look, I know I've been bit of a loser to you alright? And I'm – _genuinely_ – sorry for that. I just want to be friends."

Granger shook her head, as though she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"What about your fucking phobia of Mudbloods like me?" she taunted, and Draco grimaced again.

"Look, you're not _like_ that okay? You're not a Mudblood," he said, hoping the girl wouldn't realise that he was in fact lying.

_But is it all just a lie? Do I really think of her as... a pathetic 'Mudblood', per se?_

Granger laughed mirthlessly and Draco was frightened as the callous noise filtered through his body, chilling his very bones…

"I don't believe you," she scorned. "Why the change of heart so suddenly?"

Draco was amazed at how strong this girl seemed to be, despite all the juvenile embarrassment earlier on.

Normally, girls would swoon if Draco had been so tender in offering them friendship like that. They would probably (_Draco smirked_) even think that they meant something _more_ to him, if he asked for friendship first rather than sex.

"Look I can't force you into accepting this friendship," Draco mused, deciding on a change of tack. "Friendship shouldn't be forced, it should transpire naturally. So if you really want to be my friend, then you'll meet me at the Astronomy Tower tomorrow evening at seven."

And with that, he turned around sharply and walked off, wondering whether or not he had indeed done the right thing.

* * *

Hermione took the encumbering bag off her bag and placed it gingerly on the floor before kicking it in exasperation to the other side of the corridor she was in.

She was so pissed off at herself for succumbing to Malfoy like that earlier. Why had she laughed with him, why had she thanked him for helping her pack her bag away – why had she believed, if only for a second, that _this_ was how things were meant to be?

Hermione sat down on the cool floor, her hands rubbing the irregular contours of the tiles on which she was sitting. They were deep black in colour, with veins of white and grey rock running through them, and Hermione admired the blatant disparity of colour.

It reminded her of Malfoy and herself… Slytherin and Gryffindor… Pureblood and Mudblood…

She sighed sadly and pulled the band out of her hair, hoping the action would alleviate her headache. She separated the curls with some effort, methodically detangling the adamant knots before resigning from the obviously futile attempt.

Hermione simply couldn't believe that Malfoy wanted to be her friend, after all the discrimination and squabbles they had contended with over the years.

She still remembered how painful the experience of having her teeth enlarged had been. As soon as she had seen that jet of bright orange light speeding toward her that day before Potions, she knew that the curse was not going to be pleasant…

Especially as it had been uttered by none other than her arch nemesis, Draco Malfoy.

Hermione unconsciously passed a hand over her lips, massaging the skin gently and closed her eyes.

How could she ever forgive that boy for pulling a stunt like that? How could she ever forgive the boy who caused her so much emotional torment? How could she forgive the boy that had hurt her best friends relentlessly?

How could a prejudiced Pureblood and a manifested Mudblood ever be _friends_?

Hermione smoothed the wrinkles of her robes out delicately, enjoying the feeling of the smooth fabric on her fingers.

But when Malfoy had said that he wanted them to be friends… there was such sincerity in his silver-blue eyes… for the first time, they seemed unmasked and stunning…

And she loved the feeling of her arm in his hand… their body parts seemed to fit together flawlessly like a jigsaw puzzle. And his grasp was so firm and strong… it made Hermione feel secure but at the same time, abashed.

But friendship? Was such a thing possible? Maybe Malfoy only wanted to bed her just to prove something to those merciless Slytherin friends of his. Just to cross Hermione off his infamous list.

But if that was what he had truly wanted – then why had he asked for friendship? Surely he would have just tried to rape her, like the scoundrel that he was?

Hermione shivered as the thought entered her mind but she discarded it. Malfoy wasn't _that_ bad. No one who so closely resembled an angel could _ever_ be that bad.

She smiled grimly as the folly of the thought was registered in her mind, and she rubbed her temples. She hadn't decided whether she would indeed go to the Astronomy Tower tomorrow evening. What were to happen if it turned out to be an ambush of Slytherins?

_I'll have my wand, though, and granted, I know I 'am' a better spell caster than Malfoy,_ she mused smugly.

Hermione stood up and swung her bag over her back and checked her watch. Class would have been over five minutes ago. But no one had come by-

"Hermione!"

Hermione closed her eyes in annoyance at the voice before turning around to look at the person who had called her name.

"Glad to hear that you've finally reverted to calling me 'Hermione'," she hissed, eyeing the handsome black-haired boy in front of her with irritation.

Harry looked down at his leather shoes and Hermione felt a pang of sadness at his gesture of submission. She hadn't really meant to be so harsh; but she was still rather angry at Harry for his cheating ways.

"Walk with me?" Harry asked tentatively, but he didn't wait for Hermione to answer as he tugged her arm and they began to move toward the Great Hall.

"How did you know I was here?" Hermione asked, hoping to stray the subject away from where she knew it was heading.

Harry sighed desolately but looked at Hermione with a fake smile on his face. He tilted his head slightly at her and she thought he looked absolutely adorable. It made her feel slightly more in the mood for forgiving.

"I always know where my best friends are," he murmured, and Hermione could not help but laugh at the possessive nature of her friend's words.

She shook her head in mirth and they continued walking, but the direction of their gait was now not heading toward the Great Hall. Hermione fused her eyebrows together.

"Harry, it's lunch now," she urged. "Shouldn't we be at the Great Hall?"

The boy beside her winced before plastering the same fake smile on his face once more. Hermione faintly remembered the route they were taking, but the destination was just not coming to her mind.

"Erm, I eat in the kitchens these days," he muttered, looking away from Hermione and steering her again along the same course.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Harry, you can't keep avoiding Ginny forever," she said, trying to keep her voice even.

Harry shook his head.

"It's not only her I'm avoiding, it's Lavender too," he said matter-of-factly, his pace quickening slightly.

Hermione felt confusion sweep over her. Why would Harry want to avoid the so-called 'love of his life'?

"That doesn't make sense, Harry," she urged.

Harry stopped in his stride and faced Hermione. He was only about an inch or two taller than Hermione, but she still perceived him as an equal.

"Ginny has been really sad that you're not talking to her anymore, Harry," Hermione continued, trying to fill the awkward silence that was present.

Harry looked down and his shoulders drooped slightly.

"I don't mean to make her upset," he finally squeaked.

Hermione nodded her understanding, though she was in truth far from understanding of the situation.

"Of course you don't," she said briskly, patting her friend lightly on the back.

The boy cringed at the touch for some reason and Hermione withdrew immediately. The last thing she wanted to contend with was another reason to be pissed off about.

"Hermione, Lavender forced me," he mumbled, looking up into the girl's eyes.

Hermione couldn't comprehend what Harry was saying. Who ever heard of a _girl_ forcing a boy to do things that they didn't want to?

"What do you mean?" she said.

Harry massaged his temples with the palms of his hands and Hermione had to admit that her patience was wearing thin, and so was her rumbling stomach.

"I didn't want to cheat on Ginny, but Lavender she's… she's _provocative_, Hermione," Harry said, shaking his hand up and down to search for a suitable word. "When we came to Hogwarts she – she kissed me. And I don't know why, but I kissed her back. And then when I realised what I had done, I felt like shit. But you gotta believe me 'Mione, it wasn't my fault."

Hermione sighed exasperatedly but she did not want to stir up another conflict, so she nodded and linked her arms with Harry's once again and they paced toward the portrait of the fruit bowl to eat some well-deserved lunch.

* * *

**A/N:** Yo watup. Alright last chapter – sorry if that was a load of shit. Was it angsty? Angst is one of my favourite genres so I'm sorry if I got a bit too carried away there. Hope this chapter sates your flavour more.

Thank you for the kind reviews!

I'm so happy to see that my reviewers are smart people and I am amused by your ahem theories. And that's all I'm gonna say ;-).

Those people who are waiting for Draco and Hermione to get together – boy, you're in for a treat **next chapter**! So promise me you'll keep reading. PROMISE! _breathes_ lol just kidding, you can stop if you want to doesn't bother me as long as you're happy :-)

I actually prefer to read more Hermione and Draco angst before they finally fall in love, not a HUGE fan of over-fluffing if that's a word, but I don't hate it either, but I'm sorry if things are moving fast now between them. Are they moving fast? Please be nice and tell me in your reviews if I'm going too fast with Draco already inviting Hermione on a date (okay okay, he just wants to be 'friends' _glares icily at Draco_ ) lol.

Anyways this A/N is boring I know I know so Imma shut my mouth now. And can I just finish by saying…

I LOVE TOM FELTON! 

Thank you, thank you and until next time – **review**!


	14. Anxiety and Mischief

**Disclaimer: **All of it's not my property, I'm afraid. It belongs to JKR and I'm not making a prophet or a profit out of it (lame joke, I know!)

**Title of Story: **When Darkness Catches the Light

**Summary:** Can two sworn enemies ever find true love in each other? What happens when a seductive mission comes along to prod them in the right direction? Draco/Hermione

**Rated:** PG-13 for language, angst descriptions and some sexual connotations.

**Quick A/N:** Hi! Um, whether or not Blaise really is a girl or a boy, for this fic, he is going to remain a boy so I'm sorry if that's not canon, I assure you that I thought he was a boy before I put him in the story, so yeh, read on thanks! This chapter is kinda long. But I hope you read it all the same!

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen:** Anxiety and Mischief

_See my days are cold without you  
But I'm hurtin while im with you  
And though my heart can take no more  
I keep on running back to you _

_So sad, so sad  
What love will make you do  
--Foolish, Ashanti_

Hermione rose from her Head Girl room the next morning to the gloom of the dawn.

She rubbed her eyes out of their sleepy daze and yawned. Her room was virtually engulfed in darkness, a happenstance that was certainly accounted for as Hermione noted the godforsaken hour that she had woken up at.

It was only then that a feeling of dread came over her body, and her eyes widened.

Today was the day that Malfoy wanted to meet her, at the Astronomy Tower.

Hermione groaned and clutched her golden covers under her chin tightly, as if extracting some security from them. She evidently did not care that her hands were beginning to ache with pain.

Was she indeed ready to accept Malfoy's friendship?

If truth were to be told, she didn't even know if the boy was being entirely serious about the whole matter. It seemed a trifle sudden, all the attention she was receiving from him. Not to mention the perplexing quality of his messages.

_"A Mud-'muggle' must always stand in the presence of a superior..."_

_"I never did get to thank you for saving my life that night, did I?"_

_"… you are inferior to me, and therefore, an inadequate choice for Head Girl."_

_"I just want to be friends."_

Hermione cringed at the memories.

She hated herself for being so malleable to his taunts and praise. Under normal circumstances, she would have never even batted an eyelid to the blonde-haired rebel, no matter the nature of his comments. But nowadays, _he_ was all she could really ever think about.

But then again, Hermione knew that her current situation had long ago absconded from the tag 'normal'. She smiled grimly.

Hermione stood up from her bed, idly straightening the nonexistent creases of her meagre nightgown before pacing toward the large window of her room. She thrust it open, expending all her energy on the heavy glass article and trembled as a tepid breeze swept over her body.

Her eyes closed and her lips quirked into a sad smile.

Hermione loved the feel of the subtle zephyr as it made contact with her skin. She revelled in the feel of the mild frostiness, as it prompted goose bumps to sprout on the surface of her limbs.

For some reason, it made her remember when Malfoy had grasped her arm so firmly in his hand. He had thumbed her soft skin so tactlessly that Hermione had felt shivers run up her spine. But it had granted her such a huge adrenaline rush… the sentiment was almost spooky.

She sighed and took a seat beside the windowpane, her head resting gingerly on her fists.

The sky was still indigo in hue, the tranquil colour perpetual and captivating. Hermione felt as though she could observe the vastness of the heavens forever and never tire from the whim. But duties do have their tendency to intrude upon one's mind when it is in a state of utmost peacefulness.

Hermione sighed in exasperation as images of Malfoy flitted through her mind.

She couldn't help but wonder whether the Head Boy was planning some sort of trap tonight for her, his mortal enemy of the past six years. It would certainly prove to be a relief to her if _she_ had an opportunity to vanquish Malfoy once and for all in a lone Astronomy Tower.

But surprisingly, Hermione didn't want Malfoy to die a gruesomely painful death anymore. True, she would have been delighted by the prospect last year… perhaps at the beginning of her seventh year, even. But _now_… everything seemed so different.

Merlin, he had looked so incredibly cute after the meeting with Dumbledore. The glinting wisps of his blonde hair were parted flawlessly in the middle of his head, the strands falling delectably into his gorgeous blue-silver eyes and … that dazzling, _dazzling_ smile…

Hermione winced at her evident sin of lust, before crawling back under the covers of her cosy bed.

So what if it was to be an ambush of Slytherins tonight? So what if Malfoy was planning to curse her into a void? Hermione knew she was not elected to be Head Girl for reasons simply regarding popularity and charisma.

No. Tonight, if the need were to arise, Hermione would prove once again why indeed she was the smartest witch in her year.

Even though a large part of her hoped that the blonde-haired boy's intentions proved to be more genuine than one would have anticipated.

* * *

Draco arrived at the Great Hall the next morning, his stomach whining incessantly for food.

He had taken a rapid shower – as the delay of his awakening reasoned a compromise in grooming time – and neglected to dry his hair properly, before bounding out of the Head Common room exit door with not even a trace of a smirk on his face.

Draco felt an unfamiliar feeling of anxiety well up in his body.

For the first time in his life, he was desperately worried as to whether or not a girl were to go on a date with him.

_Strike that – this is definitely 'not' a date,_ he scowled, passing his hand through his hair and scanning the Great Hall for nothing in particular.

Yet the fact still remained that Draco could probably acquire a date with any girl he wanted at Hogwarts.

_They_ would most likely lick murky swamp water off his shoes if he promised to blow them a kiss. Sure, some of the girls played hard-to-get at first – but as soon as they got absorbed into Draco's glittering eyes, they soon proved to be rather 'hard-to-get-off' his palatable body.

But _Granger_… somehow Draco knew that her display of hostility and apathy was not merely a disguise, not merely a ploy to play hard-to-get. She was for real.

And there was also every possibility that she wouldn't show up tonight.

He took a seat next to Crabbe, before spreading ample quantities of butter, banana and sugar on his toast. He was about to take a bite when he felt the piece of bread being prised away from his grasp.

Draco felt a pang of irritation and turned to see who had suddenly obtained the gut to stand up to him, but he felt a pitiless glare spread over his face instantly at the sight of the person.

Pansy was scraping the condiments of Draco's toast with her podgy index finger, eyeing it with a hint of apprehension, before looking up at the boy with desire in her eyes. He scowled as she then plunged the finger into her mouth and smiled at him.

Draco knew that she most certainly thought her actions were seductive, and it was this folly that caused him to grunt derisively.

Pansy cringed ever so slightly, before pasting the same smile on her face once more.

"If you're hungry Draco babe, I'll feed you," she said, taking a seat on the boy's lap.

Draco immediately pushed her away, shaking his head in disbelief and tried to concentrate on what the other Slytherins were talking about.

"… So Draco, how's the position of Head Boy treating you?"

Draco turned to look at the boy in front of him who had spoken, and a smirk crept over his face as he saw that it was the brown-haired Theodore Nott.

The two had been very good friends the past two years, purely because Draco held high respect for the boy that his father spoke so highly of. The Malfoy and Nott families were close acquaintances, both families being wealthy and in the inner circle of the Dark Lord. It was, after all, Theodore that had told him that the Dark Lord was very displeased with Lucius a long time ago.

Yet Draco still did not know the full story about that particular escapade.

"It's actually not too bad, you know, I don't have to patrol at night or anything, so I guess in that way it's easy," Draco said thoughtfully, munching on an apple and cinnamon muffin.

"Aye," Theodore responded, screwing the top off his muffin and throwing the stump at Pansy, who was now seated at the far end of the table. "More food for you, Parkinson, eat up before you get too scrawny!"

Draco laughed at the sarcasm in his friend's words, just as Pansy glowered at the two of them before stuffing the muffin stump in her mouth. Theodore smirked at him before chewing his own muffin rather elaborately.

"What's between you two, anyways, Draco?" Theodore continued, indicating Pansy with a quick nod of his head.

Draco couldn't help but snort again.

"She's my _darling_ girlfriend Theo, so don't get any ideas," Draco murmured cynically, narrowing his eyes in mock of a challenge.

The boy in front of him shook his head in jollity, his dark strands of hair splaying everywhere with the movement. Draco leaned forward to grab a large cream and jelly bun off a silver platter in front of him, but he saw another, tanned hand already there on the same bun. He looked up to see Blaise Zabini with a mean glare on his face.

"Get your hand off it, Zabini, it's mine," Draco snarled, pulling at the bun before it tore into two pieces, each piece in each boy's hand.

"Funny, you seem more possessive of a stupid cream bun rather than your significant other," Zabini returned curtly, licking the cream gingerly off his bun with his dextrous tongue.

Draco glared at him.

"Fuck _off_ Zabini, I am not in the mood for your bullshit this morning," he snapped, throwing the bun back onto the silver platter, just as Millicent Bulstrode eagerly picked it up, winking at Draco.

"So _Draco_," Zabini continued, stressing the name with fake adoration, "I hear there's trouble in paradise, am I right?"

Draco plunged his hand into his robes and extracted his slender wand, before eyeing Zabini dangerously.

"Whatever happens between Parkinson and myself is none of your business, alright?" he barked harshly, twirling the wand expertly in his fingers.

Zabini glanced at the wand with some apprehension, before regarding Draco once more, his eyebrow raised and his hand on the left-hand side of his chest.

"Why, Draco, I wasn't talking about Pansy," he resumed airily, his eyes flickering to the Gryffindor table. "I was in truth referring to our _Mudblooded_ Head Girl."

Draco felt a surge of hatred spread throughout his body at the insult to Granger, though he did not exactly know where from the feeling had sourced.

"You take that back Zabini," he whispered menacingly, before he could stop himself.

Zabini chuckled amusedly, and shook his head in mirth.

"Touched a nerve, have I, Draco?" he sneered, tilting his head slightly to the left.

"You'll be touching your deathbed soon if you don't keep your fucking mouth shut," Draco snapped.

Zabini stood up from his seat, saluted Draco scathingly before exiting the hall. Draco shot Theodore a warning glance, who raised his hands to indicate he wasn't planning to say anything anyway. Draco perused over his timetable, anguished to note he had Healing classes first up.

He frowned as he remembered why he had taken the said class in the first place, before his sixth year at Hogwarts had begun…

* * *

_**FLASHBACK**_

_Draco was lying on his bed, his arms folded to support the back of his head. His sheets were of a dark green silk, the sleek material chosen by his mother especially to fit his large four-poster. These sheets were chosen despite his father's protests against having a spoilt child, yet a compromise was reached by selecting the colour green._

_Facing adversity, Lucius used to say, was merely character building. And what could possibly be wrong with character building?_

_Draco closed his eyes firmly, blocking out the thoughts of his father. The man had grown to be doggedly persistent in his resolve to introduce Draco to the Dark Side. _

_The introduction itself had gone smoothly enough… the Dark Lord was certainly impressed with Draco's talent and – exactly as he had put it at the time – Draco's 'unyielding tenacity and immense potential'. The Lord had admired the way Draco was not merely a yes-man – he had said so himself – but he had also stated that Draco would have benefited by learning obedience. _

_Obedience seemed to be important to the Dark Lord at the time Draco had first met him. This conviction confused Draco. _

_He had often been told to renounce the path of conformity and to stand up for what he believed in. This principle, more often than not, only allowed him to ridicule muggle-born witches and wizards; he wasn't permitted to speak his mind otherwise on any other topic. But it was this rule enough that made Draco feel as if he still wielded at least some power in his life, some power that his father had not yet confiscated. _

_But the Lord still insisted that obedience was worthwhile!_

_Though he did not understand why this was the case initially, Draco soon discovered the penalties of defiance. _

_He saw, over the next few meetings, how his Master had punished those who had not followed orders. He also observed how his father undertook all possible measures to nearly always ensure a successful mission._

_Every now and then, Draco wondered whether his father had ever disobeyed an order in his life. He was convinced that his father was about as dutiful as one could possibly be… but on those very rare occasions, sometimes Draco swore he noticed something different in his father's pale eyes… something so very astonishing…_

_Something that almost resembled… grief._

_Draco looked around his dim room, ruffling his hair lightly with his fingers. _

_He loved being in his room; it was his one sanctuary away from his father and Hogwarts. It was the place where he felt comfortable letting down his defences; where he could cry if he wanted to, where he could scream if he wanted to, where he could kick the unblemished walls if he wanted to…_

_Draco heard a tapping at his veiled window and he glanced over to see, in the middle slit of the black curtains, his owl, Cronus, clutching a letter in his sharp black talons._

_Draco sighed and let the owl in, closing the curtains quickly so as not to let the light in anymore than it already had. He prised the letter away from his owl's firm grasp, before settling on his bed once more to read it._

_It was from Hogwarts, Draco grimly saw. It was a subject selection message, he noted, as his eyes scanned the list of classes he was allowed to take in his sixth and seventh years combined._

_As if on cue, his door suddenly opened to reveal Lucius, his father._

_Draco felt a pang of fear sweep through his body, but he willed it to disappear quickly. He shuddered to think what his father would say if he ever found out that his only son had sensed fear in his lifetime._

_The tall man paced gracefully to his son's bed, beckoning him to hand over the letter. Draco complied submissively and watched his father's inscrutable expression._

_"So," his father began slowly. "I suppose you will have by now chosen your subjects?"_

_Draco shook his head, knowing to dodge the trick question._

_"I wanted to ask your opinion on the matter, father," he murmured, deepening his voice slightly._

_The smallest of smirks appeared on Lucius's face._

_"Well, what do 'you' want to do for the next two years, Draco?" he said dangerously, sitting on the swivel chair of Draco's desk._

_Draco winced, but quickly shifted his seating position to disguise his sign of weakness._

_"I thought of course, Advanced Potions, father, and Arithmancy and Ancient Runes," he stuttered, careful to look away from his father's lifeless orbs._

_"Naturally," his father returned curtly, smoothing his dark jade robes and looking back over the Hogwarts letter. "And what other three subjects?"_

_Draco knew that this was about as approving as his father was going to get. He felt a feeling of momentary relief spread throughout his body. He was halfway there._

_"Perhaps Higher-Level Transfiguration, Extended Dark Arts Defence and Complex Charms Study?" he ventured, twiddling his thumbs nervously._

_Lucius looked up sharply to his son, his eyebrow raised._

_"Dark Arts Defence, Draco?" he whispered. "Surely you would be more prepared to actually learn the Dark Arts themselves, rather than to pursue learning shielding techniques against them?"_

_Draco nodded, not knowing what exactly his father was talking about._

_"I am pleased that our Master has taken a liking to you, Draco," Lucius continued, eyeing his son intently. "He has himself offered to personally teach you the Unforgivables. This is not an offer to pass up, Draco."_

_Draco felt a squirm in his stomach. He had to learn how to manipulate someone, how to torture someone and finally… how to kill someone? But he was only in his sixth year at Hogwarts! He wasn't ready to cope with the burden of a person's life on his shoulders. But deep down, Draco knew that he had no say in the matter._

_No matter how accommodating his father seemed to sound, he knew it was all just an act. A cruel, pitiless act._

_"Father, I fear I am far too young to learn such curses, don't you agree?"_

_Lucius narrowed his eyes at Draco and he felt a deep sense of foreboding well up inside his quivering body._

_"Our Lord has agreed to render you a great service!" Lucius shrieked suddenly, standing on his feet. "I'll be damned if you do not learn these curses! I am the Head of this house and you will do as I say. No arguments, Draco."_

_"Yes father," Draco whispered quickly, cowering away from his father's wrath despite his resolve._

_He missed the look of pure hatred that had swiftly crept across on his father's face._

_"You are pathetic, Draco."_

_"I know, father."_

_"You are weak, Draco."_

_"I know, father."_

_"And I will not tolerate your ignorance any longer, Draco."_

_"I… I know, father," Draco gasped amid inaudible sobs, watching his father through the gap in his fisted hands._

_Lucius walked toward the door of Draco's room, but paused before he walked through it. He gazed for some time at the gold metal of the doorknob, before he spoke once more._

_"You will study the art of Healing for the next two years, Draco," he said lazily. "Merlin only knows how useful such enchantments prove to be when you come to be of my age."_

_And without caring for a response, he slammed the door behind him. He did not even stop to hear the last few words spoken by his son that day._

_"It is by your will, father."_

_**END OF FLASHBACK**_

_

* * *

_

Hermione walked quickly down to the Great Hall, relieved to note that there were only a handful of scattered students in it at the time.

As she glanced at the Gryffindor table, she was somewhat surprised to note that Ginny Weasley was there. Her body was hunched and her light red hair was unkempt and tied messily into a bun. Her head was resting on her vertical arm and her other hand was tracing the rim of her glass of pumpkin juice.

Hermione felt her heart dip at the mere sight of her miserable best friend.

Her feet paced to the chair opposite Ginny's, and she hesitantly took a seat. Hermione noted the glassy expression on her friend's face and she was rather tentative to break the silence.

"Um, Gin?" she muttered, filling her glass with the contents of the bright red jug on the table.

Ginny didn't stir, but her finger immediately stopped its circuit route on the brim of the opaque, frosted tumbler in front of her.

"Ginny, are you alright?" Hermione urged, patting the girl's forearm but she flinched at the spasm of prickling that shot up her limb.

Ginny recoiled her arm away quickly and looked at Hermione, her eyes scared at the sudden violation of contact. As she saw that it was really Hermione in front of her, Ginny seemed to ease.

"Oh, it's you," she whispered, pasting a weak smile on her face.

"How are you?" Hermione asked uncertainly, eyeing the girl's frizzy hair in front of her with sympathy.

Ginny forced a laugh.

"I look terrible, don't I?" she said, flicking the ends of her hair with her fingers. "Yeah, yeah, I know that. But it doesn't bother me. No one to dress up for any more, right?"

Hermione felt a feeling of dread consume her. This was very, _very_ unexpected. Ginny knew about Harry and Lavender?

"Er… what do you mean, Gin?" Hermione lied, downing her glass of bright yellow-orange juice rather hastily.

Ginny sighed sadly.

"I haven't really talked to Harry for such a long time, you know? I'm really starting to think he doesn't love me anymore. I mean, he hasn't exactly ever _said_ that he loves me. Maybe I was stupid to assume things about him. But it doesn't exactly help that we are in different classes, so I can't talk to him then. He never comes down to the Great Hall, so I don't see him then either. And I am just up to my ears in homework-"

"Ginny?"

"Yeah?"

"You're ranting," Hermione murmured, trying to lighten the dreary mood.

Ginny let out a genuine laugh and nodded.

"Thanks for listening anyways, Hermione," she winked, before massing her temples quite vigorously with her index fingers. "So, like, how have _you_ been doing?"

Hermione smiled appreciatively at the red-haired girl but the jovial expression quickly disappeared as she remembered precisely _how_ she had been doing lately.

She hadn't been sleeping very well, thinking about Malfoy. She had been stressing all morning, thinking about Malfoy. She had been wondering whether or not she was the laughing stock or the central subject of defeat amongst her peers – all because of Malfoy.

"I've been absolutely fine," Hermione lied briskly, placing sliced circles of banana onto her sugared and buttered toast.

"Urgh, what's that you're eating?" Ginny said distastefully, watching with disbelief as Hermione chewed her bread.

Hermione grinned and offered her a piece.

"No offence, but you have the weirdest tastebuds in the world, Hermione."

Hermione joined in the laughter and Ginny wiped a fake tear of laughter from her eye. Suddenly, she looked over at Hermione and her eyes were filled with a probing glee.

"Hey, you wanna go visit Ron?" she said, already climbing into the straps of her bag. "I think your boyfriend would probably be doing much better now, don't you think?"

Hermione dropped the piece of toast in her hand. She didn't want to go see Ron now, of all times; she didn't want to have to bear all the awkwardness of it all. Sure, she wanted to know whether he was doing okay but… a _personal_ visit?

"Why don't you wanna go?" Ginny asked quickly, fusing her eyebrows together at Hermione.

Hermione felt a pang of irritation at the questioning girl.

They were supposed to be best friends – but Ginny didn't empathise at all with Hermione. Ginny simply could not put two and two together that everyone had forced Hermione into a relationship with Ron. No one could ever work that out of his or her own accord.

Hermione and Ron were the indestructible-super-Gryffindor-couple. Hermione smiled dismally at the thought.

"No, I didn't say that – let's go," Hermione muttered, her voice clearly lacking enthusiasm.

Ginny's inquisitive frown immediately disappeared and was replaced with a warm smile as the two girls walked together toward the Hospital Wing in silence, that was sometimes disrupted with casual talk.

Just as they entered through the creaky door of the infirmary and the heavy smells of the different therapeutic potions reached her cowering nose, Hermione felt a pang of uneasiness ripple through her body. She really did _not_ want to see Ron. Not in the slightest.

"Ginny!" Ron exclaimed, as Ginny practically ran up to her brother's bed, leaving Hermione standing rather awkwardly by the door.

"Brother dear, how are you doing?" Ginny said pompously, moving one of the stools in the room next to Ron's bed.

Ron did not answer; rather, he was looking up at Hermione. His gaze was inquiring, and Hermione forced a smile on her face as she noticed the empty state of the room and she walked up to the boy's bed.

"Hey, you," she said genially, punching Ron lightly on his upper arm.

Ron's face broke out into an authentic smile, and he sat up on his bed. His skin had lost most of its green tinge, Hermione was pleased to note.

"Hermione," he whispered, his eyes filled with a strange awe of the beautiful brunette beside him. "How have you been?"

"Yuck, this is _way_ to fluffy for my liking, guys," Ginny yelped, blocking her ears and attempting to walk toward the infirmary exit door. "I'm gonna go now and just leave you to do… _it_."

"NO!" Hermione yelled before she could stop herself and she quickly ran toward Ginny and grasped the girl's arm.

Ginny turned her head to face Hermione and raised her eyebrow.

"All right, Hermione, chill, whatever you say," she said slowly, still not taking her eyes off Hermione's own imploring ones.

The two walked sheepishly back towards Ron, who appeared to have been quite oblivious to the whole exchange, as he was busily eating his bacon and eggs with great gusto. Hermione could not help but laugh at the display.

"Pleased to see you're gaining your normal appetite," she whispered, not knowing what else to say to ease the tenuous nature of the situation.

"Yeah, you greedy pig!" Ginny shrieked, her usual exuberance evidently returning to her.

Ron nodded rather vigorously and he cut a small square of bacon before thrusting it under Hermione's nose.

"Eat," he commanded, the mischievous glint returning to his eyes.

Hermione smiled at the gesture but she pushed his hand away.

"Not so early in the morning, Ron," she said uncomfortably, smoothing out some of the creases in Ron's sheets.

Her hands began to prickle and she withdrew at once from the action.

"So 'ow's being 'ead Girl, eh?" Ron managed to say through a mouthful of bacon.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him and he grinned. This prompted the smallest of smiles from Hermione and she took a seat beside Ron's bed, opposite the side his sister was at.

"Yeah, Hermione – are there any funky gatherings coming up that we don't know of?" Ginny urged, her eyes shining with enthusiasm.

Hermione laughed. Dumbledore didn't exactly say that she was sworn to secrecy on the matter of the upcoming ball – what harm would there be to tell her two best friends?

_Wrong Hermione – your best friend and your 'boyfriend',_ a voice rang out in Hermione's mind, and she shuddered vaguely at the thought.

"Um – well there's going to be a ball soon," she said casually.

Ginny shot up in her chair and Ron rolled his eyes.

"What a perfect opportunity!" she squealed, the smile on her face reaching from ear to ear.

"Er – a perfect opportunity for what, exactly?" Ron asked uncertainly.

Ginny turned a dim shade of crimson and she glanced over at Hermione momentarily before she sat back down on her stool.

"N-nothing."

Ron looked at Hermione and she shrugged, before she remembered that she had Complex Charms Study in a half hour.

"We better get going, Gin," Hermione said, swinging her bag on her back and checking her watch.

Ginny nodded and they both bid Ron farewell and started to pace toward the Hospital Wing exit door.

"So what 'perfect opportunity' _were_ you talking about?" Hermione whispered, as they were about to reach the door.

A slight grin crept over Ginny's face.

"I meant a perfect opportunity to talk to Harry, to ask him if he would go with me!" she said, and Hermione felt her heart dip slightly as she thought of the probable rejection that Ginny had in store for her.

"Oh, right."

"Yeah, because obviously you'll be going with my brother and everything-"

Hermione turned to face Ginny sharply once they had walked out of the door.

"Er – actually, Ginny, Dumbledore said the Head Boy and Head Girl have to attend the upcoming ball _together_, so no, I'm not going with Ron."

Hermione heard a gasp sound from somewhere in the corridor, but it didn't worry her as she saw the look of horror on Ginny's faintly freckled face.

"You don't say? Man, I'm so sorry Hermione," she said compassionately.

Hermione nodded and the two began walking toward their respective classes when Hermione felt someone tap her on the back. She turned around and was irked to note that she was facing Parvati Patil.

"What do _you_ want?" Hermione scowled, her eyebrow raised questioningly at the dark beauty in front of her.

Parvati examined the cuticles of her fingernails before regarding Hermione with her attention. Hermione found this very discourteous, but she knew that nothing better could be expected from the vainest girl in the seventh year.

"Oh I'm sorry, my finger slipped, I didn't actually mean to touch something as vile as you," Parvati whined, her eyes flickering disdainfully toward Hermione's messy ponytail.

"Well next time be more careful then," Hermione snapped.

She tugged at Ginny's arm and they both walked away together, not bothering to hear the characteristic creak of the opening door of the Hospital Wing behind them…

* * *

Draco walked with Theodore Nott to his Healing class.

This class was a relatively empty one, with only a handful of students primarily from Hufflepuff that were studying it. Draco grimaced at the mere thought of all those dopey Hufflepuffs in the same room as him…

_If only father could see the effects of his decision now_, Draco thought contemptuously, as he shoved some of the Hufflepuff seventh- and sixth-years out of the way so that he and Theodore would be at the front of the line.

There came no protests at his actions – just as Draco had anticipated. His eyes flickered amusedly toward Hannah Abbot, the blonde-haired witch that he had dated in his sixth year. Healing class was made mildly amusing by Abbot's attempts to get back with Draco.

Draco could barely even recall moments spent with her; all he remembered was that the… _intimacy_… had been fairly energising.

Abbot was leaning on the opposite wall of the corridor the students were lined up in, lifting her black robes up to her knee so as to give Draco an explicit view of her long legs. Draco shook his head in mirth and Theodore chuckled beside him.

"Never tires that one, does she?" Draco scorned, loud enough so that Abbot herself could hear his words.

Theodore sniggered and Abbot prowled toward Draco and flung her arms around his neck.

"_Baby_," she cooed in his ear, and Draco could not deny that he felt a ripple of desire wave through his body. "Baby, I missed you so _bad_."

But just as her hands somehow found their way to the zipper of the jeans that Draco was wearing underneath his robes, he shoved her away from him, eyeing her trembling form on the floor with detestation.

"Fuck off, _Abbot_, I'm done with you," he said smoothly, not caring that he was crushing the heart of the girl in front of him.

But just as soon as the tears started to stream down her red cheeks, she was up on her feet again and her hands were balled into fists. Draco found this fairly comical.

"You are the worst boy I have ever had the displeasure of meeting, Draco Malfoy," Abbot snarled, her face screwed up in malice.

"_Man_, Abbot, not boy," Draco corrected lazily.

The girl fumingly walked away from him toward the back of the line, and Draco felt a considerable weight lift off his shoulders.

"Eurgh, thank Merlin she left, now I don't have to throw up in disgust at that soppy display," Theodore whispered, slapping Draco on the back as he broke out in hysterics.

Draco felt his lips twitch into a smirk, but something rang through his head at Theodore's words.

_"… You might want to cover up yourself, before I throw up in disgust all over you."_

Granger was invading his thoughts once again. Draco scowled at the memory of the broom closet incident, but he willed it to disappear from his mind. He ruffled his hair with his fingers, his impatience of waiting for Professor Somnus wearing thin.

Draco still had reservations about inviting Granger to dinner with him. For that was what he had planned to set up at the Astronomy Tower platform that night; with the help of a few eager house elves and some quick flicks of his wand, he hoped to organise a cosy evening of dining.

He knew that most girls liked that sort of romantic bullshit.

Draco felt relief consume him as the serene, elderly Professor opened the door of the classroom. Draco took his usual seat at the back of the classroom with Theodore, for he knew how best to manipulate the myopic nature of his Healing Professor.

"Today," Professor Somnus said, her voice shaky because of her old age, "we will be looking at the properties of the Medicus plant. It is the single most important plant in Healing, but as mishandling of it can result in fatalities, we have left the study of it to your final year. It would be very heartbreaking indeed if anyone in this class were to - perchance mix it with Posho Weed in an even weak potion solution and the consequence were to be their untimely demise."

Draco snorted.

"It's comforting to know I am loved," he said loudly, and Theodore cackled beside him.

"Nah, Draco your – _untimely demise_ – would leave me as happy as ever," Theodore said, ducking to avoid a swat from Draco. "Though I guess it would leave Abbot over there a wealthy widow."

Draco could not help but join in the laughter as the aforementioned blonde-haired girl turned a bright shade of scarlet.

"Now, now, let us settle, this is very important information for your upcoming NEWT exams," Professor Somnus continued, not really at all fazed by the Slytherins' disruption of the class. "Even though most of you would think that mentioning the NEWTS _now_ is a touch early, let me assure you that more than a handful of students are surprised when we inform them that their exams are in a month's time."

"Well, they'd have to be pretty thick then wouldn't they?" Theodore said, tapping his head stupidly with his joint index and middle fingers and making primitive, grunting noises.

"Yeah and not to mention they'd have to be Hufflepuffs too," Draco muttered, not loud enough for the teacher to hear but loud enough for several students to turn around in their chairs and glare at him.

He shot them a mean glower and they instantly turned back toward the Professor, who had begun to lecture the class on how to properly identify the Medicus plant.

Draco felt as if brain was still on summer vacation, as the tedious droning of Professor Somnus flew through one of his ears, spiralled around inside his hollow head before taking its flight through the other ear.

Occasionally Draco would snigger at one of the comments Theodore had hotly stated, but other than that, Draco could not help but once again think about his mission for the Dark Lord.

Or, even more relevant to the truth, the gorgeous _target_ of his mission for the Dark Lord…

* * *

**A/N:** Hi! Don't be pissed off at me for not including their date here, as I had promised you last chapter. In truth, everything was initially all one chapter but the chapter got unimaginably long so I split it into two. And about what Draco and Hermione ate for breakfast (the whole banana toast thing) that's actually really nice, so try it! And if anyone's wondering why I always include star- or sky-gazing in my stories – well, it's really calming and thoughtful to watch the stars and night sky, so try that as well! Thanks for the reviews, they make me write faster and update quicker and I like them when they are longer hint hint so lengthen them if you would. Not much else to say here, but please **review** and I will update as soon as possible. Cheers! 


	15. A Rendezvous to Remember

**Disclaimer: **I wish I owned Draco Malfoy (smirk) but the unfavourable truth is that I don't. He and all the other characters (except Hailey) are owned by JKR.

**Title of Story: **When Darkness Catches the Light

**Summary:** Can two sworn enemies ever find true love in each other? What happens when a seductive mission comes along to prod them in the right direction? Draco/Hermione

**Rated:** PG-13 for language, angst descriptions and some sexual connotations.

**Quick A/N:** I apologise if this is too long for some people, I had way too much fun writing the Hermione and Draco scene, I condensed it a hell of a lot and I hope you enjoy it. If I overdid it, then I'm sorry in advance. Also, I am introducing a new important character to the story in this chapter, but you'll read and see. Thanks!

* * *

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**Chapter Fifteen:** A Rendezvous to Remember

_Fragile seams,_

_I opened up too quick and all my dreams,_

_Were walking out,_

_I'd slowly lost my fire,_

_With every single man a river cried_

_I had no sensation,_

_Completely numb, left with no satisfaction,_

_I thought no one could ever get me high, again,_

_I swear, I was not looking._

_--Chocolate, Kylie Minogue_

Hermione snapped upright when she heard her name being called during her Extended Dark Arts Defence class after lunch.

All throughout the lesson, she had been procrastinating as to whether or not she should meet Malfoy in the Astronomy Tower at seven in the night.

Hermione had reasoned that it would be chilly so late in the evening – even though deep down she knew that the weather had been oddly warm and pleasant lately.

Maybe she would actually enjoy this thing with Malfoy, whatever it turned out to be. Perhaps he truly wanted friendship from her… his attitude had been oddly sincere when he had asked it of her.

But the word that kept blaring back into Hermione's mind was _ambush_. She still shuddered to think what would happen if the small rendezvous turned out to be a surprise attack.

Finally, she had decided to go but to keep her wand within arm's reach at all times during the night.

"Sorry, Professor? You mentioned my name?" Hermione asked vacantly, ignoring the surprised giggles that filled the room after her words.

Professor MacDougall gave her an astounded glance.

"Well, Miss Granger," she began, still evidently shocked at her best student's blatant display of remoteness, "I was just informing the class of their allocation of partners and subject for the major assignment for the year. You will be working with Miss Wickenfield. Please pay attention next time in class."

Hermione nodded but a frown quickly spread over her face. Who was 'Miss Wickenfield' anyway? Hermione did not ever remember a person in her year with the aforementioned last name.

Professor MacDougall continued with her list, before she dismissed the class.

Hermione packed her books back in her already heavy bag, checked her watch to note that the time was five o'clock, before she moved to exit the nearly empty classroom. Just as she was about to walk through the door, she felt a small tap on her shoulder.

Hoping very much so that she wouldn't see Parvati again when she turned around, Hermione rotated on the spot with a ready scowl on her face, before she soon regretted donning such a harsh expression.

The girl in front of her was most likely about an inch or two shorter than Hermione, but this was probably because she slouched slightly.

Her raven-black locks were well below shoulder-length and dead straight, while some of her long bangs were fastened back with a simple, deep blue clip on the side of her head. This was the only elaborate indulgence that the girl possessed. The colour of the clip matched her large, dark blue eyes. She would have been stunning if her posture wasn't so insecure, but something about the girl made Hermione think she was very strong, in her heart.

"Hi," she said, her voice mellow but friendly. "You're Hermione Granger, right? I'm your partner for the project."

She hesitated before extending her hand out genially for Hermione to shake and her grasp was gentle and yet so very firm. Hermione felt a smile creep over her face. The girl returned the grin.

"And your name is?" Hermione asked.

The girl blushed slightly.

"Sorry, I forgot to tell you," she muttered quickly. "I'm Hailey. Hailey Wickenfield."

And it was at that moment that Hermione felt as though she had made a potential best friend. She did not know why or where exactly the sentiment had come from – but something about this girl made Hermione feel like she could tell her anything.

Little did Hermione know that the feeling was, in fact, mutual.

"_Hailey_," Hermione repeated, smiling once more. "That's a really nice name."

Hailey beamed, revealing pearly white teeth and she eased slightly. Her slouch seemed to reduce somewhat and she appeared more or less confident of herself.

"Well I'm free for the next few hours – well actually, I'm free most of the time," Hailey muttered rather quickly, suddenly clutching her books closer to her chest. "So I was just wondering whether you wanted to … you know, do a bit of research in the library?"

Her words were spoken hurriedly, and her expressive eyes seemed to cloud over in obscurity. Hermione was faintly reminded of Malfoy, but she cast the thought away from her mind.

She nodded and the two walked off together in the direction of the Hogwarts library. Hermione noticed that Hailey's pace was relatively slow… like she wanted to prolong the inevitable arrival at the library, for some reason…

"You know, I've never really heard your name before today," Hermione admitted, hoping to break the ice that had seemed to accumulate between the two.

Hailey's face fell and her posture resumed its slight drooping nature once more. Hermione felt a rush of regret at her words.

"Oh," she stated sadly.

"Well, it's really not like I pay attention to these sorts of things anyway," Hermione said quickly. "Surely you know of me as being the school bookworm, not having friends or a general life outside of the library?"

Hailey chuckled quietly.

"I don't think of you as a bookworm, Hermione," she said truthfully, and the silence relapsed.

Hermione admired the honest nature of this girl.

"So, what house are you in?" Hermione asked, not knowing what else to say.

Hailey smiled reminiscently for a few moments before answering.

"Ravenclaw – the same as my mother," she said wistfully.

Hermione smiled. She was awfully glad that Hailey didn't turn out to be in Slytherin – though, if truth were to be told, a part of her knew already that such a nice girl couldn't possibly come from such a wicked house.

"I guess your mother's really proud of you for getting into the same house as her, right?"

Hailey stopped dead in her tracks suddenly, and her posture seemed more hunched than ever. Hermione felt another rush of remorse at her words that had for some reason clearly startled this girl so much.

"She would be if only she knew," Hailey whispered, and Hermione saw a droplet splash on the dark floor beneath them sourcing from the girl's bowed head.

Hermione placed a reassuring hand on the girl's back, but she winced from the touch.

"My mother died," she whispered hoarsely of her own accord.

Hermione felt her own stomach drop to the floor at these simple words. She knew how _she_ would feel if her own mother were to die… no matter how much Hermione envied her mother's good looks, the two of them were still quite close.

"I'm so sorry," Hermione replied.

Hailey shook her bowed head feebly.

"It's not _your_ fault," she murmured, lightly stressing the word 'your'.

Hermione dropped her heavy bag to the floor and the two girls took a seat on the steps of the entrance to the library. Hailey's head was bent onto her knees, but she wasn't crying. Hermione hated herself for distressing the girl.

"You must be so strong," Hermione ranted, trying to fill the uncomfortable silence. "I know my father and I probably wouldn't survive if _my_ mother died."

Hailey's head shot up quickly, and her eyes became guarded once more as she stared resolutely at the grey wall in front of her. Hermione observed that her hands seemed to tense to some extent and her body became rigid.

Hailey then looked over at Hermione, her face neutral but Hermione could sense the iciness that she was emanating.

"My dad's dead too, okay?" she said coldly, before she gripped her books closely to her chest yet again and ran away from the shocked brunette now sitting alone on the library steps.

* * *

Draco lifted the light muslin cloth once more to check the lavish spread that had been prepared for dinner that night.

He ignored the fact that he was sweating (if only a little, it was true), and eyed the different dishes intently. There were only three courses – atypical to the usual seven or eight course meals served at the Malfoy Manor – but he wanted the night to be as relaxed and romantic as possible.

Draco scowled at the thought, but the sour expression soon left him as he saw the diverse variety of dishes that he and Granger would be eating that night.

_If she does indeed decide to turn up_, he reminded himself crossly.

He was pleased to note that the tomato and basil soup that they would be slurping first up was still warm.

The house elves had assured him many times that the soup was wonderful and could indeed win over any girl of his liking. Draco had glowered angrily at them, saying that he didn't need to seek the help of a particularly hearty broth to get a girlfriend, but he had still promised to serve the soup nonetheless.

_Strike that – I definitely 'don't' want Granger as my girlfriend_,Draco reminded himself as he checked on the pumpkin and potato pie they would be having for the main course.

He had decided on a vegetarian meal very early on, so as to avoid the awkward, "Eurgh, I don't eat meat, you carnivorous git!" that Granger might chose to spit at him. And he had tasted some of the pie in the Head kitchens prior to selecting it, and it was indeed very tasty.

But Draco easily reckoned that dessert would be the best course of the night.

He had asked the House Elves to take special care with it (against their inevitable protests consisting of, "Special care is taken with preparation of _every_ meal, Sir!") and he was more than pleased with the end result.

Draco had remembered his father stating vehemently one time when he had returned from one of his missions in Germany that he had tasted something called _Schwarzwelderkirschtorte_ and that it was relatively good. This was indeed high praise coming from Draco's connoisseur father, so Draco had requested the House Elves to prepare the same Black Forest Cake for the evening.

Draco re-covered the food with the muslin cloth, unknowingly wiping some of his sweat on the edges of it.

He was satisfied to note that the night air was warm and rejuvenating. That meant that Granger couldn't use that as an excuse to not come.

Draco checked that his hair was neatly in place. Once, he had seen Granger ogling at him when his hair was left un-gelled and parted neatly in the centre, so he had donned the same hairstyle for the evening. In truth, Draco was started to become rather fond of the simple hairdo.

He had decided to wear muggle clothes that evening, so as to show Granger that he wasn't as prejudiced as she thought he was. Draco had worn the same baggy jeans he had worn during the day with a plain navy blue shirt. He didn't want to give off the impression of trying too hard; that was a definite no-no.

Draco looked at his watch and noted that the time was six-thirty. He wiped another film of sweat off his forehead.

* * *

Hailey ran past the other students in the corridor, her head bowed down and her books held close to her chest. She did not want anyone to see that she had been crying.

_Not that anyone would really care about 'me' anyway_, she thought bleakly, closing her eyes firmly to prevent the torrent of tears from streaming down.

She still didn't know exactly why she had been so blunt with Hermione. Hailey was really starting to like the brunette and for the first time, she felt like the feeling was reciprocated.

But when the topic of conversation with anyone arrived at her parents… that was when Hailey lost most of her friends.

But she didn't mind; she knew she didn't have to talk about it to anyone unless she felt fully comfortable first.

Hailey wiped her cheeks and tied her hair into a loose ponytail around the end of the strands and before she knew it, she was in front of the Ravenclaw common room entrance door on one of the high towers in the Hogwarts Castle.

She hastily said the password and took a deep breath to calm her nerves before she walked in.

The other Ravenclaws looked up momentarily to see who had come in, but the moment they saw that it was Hailey, they returned to their books and chess games.

Hailey smiled nevertheless as she watched sadly while all her housemates were engaged in their own private chats. She craved that sort of rapport with another person.

And a part of her heart had told her that that person could easily be Hermione Granger.

* * *

Hermione trudged up dejectedly to her Head common room.

She felt terrible for making Hailey cry. Hermione had only just met her, and already she had made her upset enough to start sobbing.

_Argh, I'm so pathetic,_ Hermione reprimanded herself, walking through the common room door.

She saw a note on one of the many swivel chairs in the room that piqued her curiosity.

Hermione walked quickly over to it and dropped her bag filled with her books and wand beside the chair, not sure whether or not she should open it. Yet it had her name on it – well, it had _Granger_ written on it – so her objections were immediately silenced as she carefully unfolded the beige parchment.

_I hope you decide to come. Don't be early._

Hermione reread the words until she remembered about the invitation to come to the Astronomy Tower. She had completely forgotten about it, what with all the rumination about making Hailey cry.

She quickly checked her watch and was alarmed to note that the time was six-fifteen.

Hermione walked to her Head Girl room and emerged with a towel and some simple muggle clothes. She scowled as she saw through the window of the bathroom that it was going to be a clear night.

Hermione had a ten-minute shower before hastily putting on her white singlet top with delicate lace trimming and thin straps and her three-quarter jean pants.

She splashed on some citrus perfume and brushed her hair out. She left her curly tresses out, as they were behaving abnormally well and did not need to be tied up in the usual manner.

_And at least it should keep Malfoy happy, even if he does try to hex me,_ Hermione thought somewhat amusedly as she clambered into her black cloak and fastened the brooch near her neck.

She was glad that the rest of the students would most likely be at the Great Hall for dinner. That meant that the walk to the Astronomy Tower would be easy and uninhabited.

Hermione saw that the time was six-fifty, and she shut the common room door behind her and clutched her cloak close to her body while she began walking toward the Astronomy Tower.

She had doubts about Malfoy's intentions for tonight, but she discarded these from her conscious mind for the moment. She knew it was wrong to hold preconceived notions about someone when, in truth, you didn't really know them.

Hermione did, deep down in her heart, want to become friends with the boy; it would be a relief to abstain from their otherwise incessant repartee. And it would make Head duties a hell of a lot easier to cope with.

But didn't he hate muggle-borns? Hermione didn't believe for a second that Malfoy had gotten over his childish prejudices overnight. That was almost too good to be true. But then why was he suddenly giving her amicable attention?

What exactly did he want from her?

Hermione trembled despite the warm weather as she turned a sharp corner on her journey to the Astronomy Tower.

Hermione told herself repeatedly that she should not try to entertain Malfoy's requests and nice words, even if the night's events turned out to not include a Slytherin ambush. If he was making the effort, she needn't help him along the way. If he wanted them to become friends, she needn't comply so readily.

It was after all, _his_ fault that they had been enemies all these years.

Just as Hermione entered the Astronomy Tower platform, she took her cloak off, as the weather was much warmer than she had anticipated. She folded the cloak in half and draped one of the halves over her folded arms.

She stepped onto the platform, and was relieved to note that she hadn't been attacked yet.

In fact, the platform seemed devoid of human habitation.

But – there was a round table with two chairs in the middle of the vast platform, covered with an elegant navy blue tablecloth with a vase of jasmine flowers in the middle on top of it. There was another rectangular table to the side of the round one, covered with a plain muslin cloth that was bumpy to suggest that there were a lot of items of various sizes underneath it.

"Wow," Hermione could not help but gasp rather loudly.

She walked toward the round table, tracing the intricate embroidery of the tablecloth with her finger.

If she was expecting anything, this was _definitely_ not it.

Suddenly, Hermione felt a gentle line being drawn on the area of her chest just above the lace trimming of her singlet top. She felt her heart dip in trepidation as she looked down to see a beautiful red rose sweeping across her chest, its stem being held by pale slender fingers.

Hermione wheeled around rapidly to see Malfoy standing there, extending the rose toward her with a gentle smile on his face.

Hermione felt her breath hitch.

"_Pour vous_," he murmured, thrusting the rose flower toward Hermione again.

She raised her eyebrow.

"You speak French?" she said uncertainly, rather touched with the delicate display.

Malfoy smirked and Hermione knew it was too good to be true.

"Nah, they're the only two words I know," he shrugged, and Hermione couldn't help but chuckle.

He winked at her, and she felt rather awkward. She looked around the platform once more, still rather mesmerised by the magnificent surroundings.

"You did all this?" Hermione asked, looking back at Malfoy.

His hair was smartly parted in the middle, and some of the strands at the front fell into his admirable blue-silver eyes. He wore muggle clothes naturally; she liked the combination of jeans and a t-shirt. It seemed to alleviate the otherwise austere mood of the platform. He captivated Hermione; he looked so handsome at that very moment.

"Well yeah," Malfoy said, his voice off-handed. "You like it, don't you?"

Hermione chanced another glance around the platform before she decided to answer.

"It's wonderful," she said truthfully, incapable of speaking a falsehood that would destroy the lovely ambience. "But – why did you do it?"

Malfoy flinched slightly, and it was obvious to Hermione that he hadn't expected that question. He sighed.

"I just want us to be friends, Granger," he whispered, his tone of voice rather defeated but sincere nevertheless.

Hermione felt a rush of regret at her words that suddenly seemed to be harsh. Most of the feelings of contempt and stubbornness she had felt against Malfoy earlier on seemed to suddenly abscond from her.

"Well, friends don't usually refer to each other with their last names," she said efficiently, extending her hand out to Malfoy. "I guess you can call me Hermione."

The blonde-haired boy quickly looked up at her, his facial expression rather incredulous. It provoked a mirthful smile from Hermione and he grinned faintly back at her.

"And I guess you can call me Draco," he returned, handing Hermione the rose.

She smiled and, feeling rather brave, she walked over to the table to place the rose in the vase with the jasmine flowers.

"It's a nice contrast of colour," she approved, looking back at Malfoy.

"Yeah, I think so too," he agreed, walking over to the table.

Malfoy pulled out the chair for her and she looked up at him, rather surprised at the gallant gesture.

"Hey, I _can_ be a gentleman too, you know," he laughed, and a small grin appeared slowly on Hermione's face and she nodded before taking a seat.

"So, you want to be friends, do you?" Hermione said, still quite staggered by the boy's tender deeds.

Malfoy poured them each a glass of thick pumpkin juice.

"Too much pulp," he said absent-mindedly, before adding some water to each glass.

"Malfoy?" Hermione urged, irritated by the way he had ignored her previous question.

He looked up at her quickly, his eyebrow raised and a frown prevalent on his face. Hermione fused her eyebrows together questioningly, before she quickly realised her mistake.

"Er – sorry, I meant _Draco_," she muttered, finding the name slightly odd to say.

"Yes, _Hermione_?" Malfoy said flippantly, and she rolled her eyes.

They both laughed and Draco took a seat opposite Hermione. She felt a shiver run up her body as Malfoy's legs brushed against her own. She desperately hoped that her cheeks hadn't turned red.

"In answer to your question - yes, I _do_ want to be friends," Malfoy said, clearly not aware of the contact of their legs.

Hermione nodded, but for some reason his response to her question seemed rather empty. He still wasn't looking at her directly in the eye; he was shifting the arrangement of the flowers in the vase in front of him. This made Hermione frown slightly.

"May I ask what made you change your mind to stop being a jerk after all these years?" Hermione blurted out, before she could stop herself and she impatiently moved the vase of flowers out of her line of sight.

Malfoy looked at her, and Hermione thought she saw a glint of fury in his eyes. But as soon as it had appeared, it had disappeared and Hermione felt her nerves calm down once more.

"Well," he began, "I was just kind of sick of the fighting and I thought that it would be natural for the Head Boy and Head Girl to be on non-hexing terms."

They both laughed again and Hermione suddenly became aware that Malfoy was watching her intently. It looked like he was examining every part of her body, trying to commit each contour of her figure to his memory…

"What?" she asked sharply.

The smallest of smiles spread across Malfoy's face.

"You just look really pretty tonight," he said frankly, tilting his head slightly to the side.

Hermione felt shock disperse throughout her body. What had he just _said_?!

"Um – thanks," Hermione muttered quickly, feeling her cheeks go red.

She coughed and looked away from him, suddenly feeling that the entire situation was quite unnerving. She dearly wished that she had stayed up in her Head Girl room.

"Don't I get a return compliment?" Malfoy smirked amusedly, his eyebrow raised slightly in anticipation.

Hermione snapped her attention back onto him. She felt the anger slowly blow up in her body.

"You look slightly less big-headed than normal," she said rather coolly.

Malfoy chortled and shook his head in mirth.

"That was kind of rude, but I'll take it as a compliment anyway," he said.

"You do that," Hermione said nimbly, downing her glass of pumpkin juice.

It was not sweet like the usual pumpkin juice that was served in the Great Hall. This juice was rather temperate and spicy, and Hermione found it tasty after a while.

"More?" Malfoy inquired, indicating the large jug on the table. "It's a new recipe."

Hermione shook her head. This was a bit _too_ formal for her liking, but somehow she knew that these pleasantries had to be tackled first if they were ever going to get anywhere.

"So, what have you planned for tonight?" Hermione said, clasping her hands together in her lap.

Malfoy smirked at her but then it turned to a smile, as if he had changed his mind on something.

"Well, I thought we could have dinner," he said casually, though he was looking at Hermione as if hoping she would agree to the programme.

She laughed quietly as the thought struck her mind that Malfoy was seeking her approval. Who would have thought that her former enemy was going to such great lengths to gain her admiration?

"That sounds nice," Hermione said.

Malfoy broke out into another smile and Hermione was genuinely stunned by how many times this boy could smile and make it seem like it was just his second nature. He looked very attractive when he smiled, but for some reason Hermione missed his trait smirk, too.

"I'll just bring us the tomato and basil soup, then," Malfoy said hastily, wiping the smile off his face as though he had just realised a mistake he had made.

He muttered a levitating charm that produced two periwinkle-blue bowls from under the muslin cloth toward their round table.

Hermione was initially scared that the contents of the bowls would spill, but Malfoy seemed to be very proficient at spell casting, and the bowls arrived at their table smoothly. Gleaming cutlery appeared in front of the both of them and Malfoy smiled encouragingly at Hermione to tuck in.

She nodded her head slightly and lifted a spoonful of the bright red-orange soup to her mouth. It smelt lovely and tasted peppery and hot. Hermione felt her insides warm up instantly as the soup trickled down her throat.

"This is delicious, Draco," she said civilly, closing her eyes with the sheer warmth and taste of the soup.

When Hermione opened her eyes once again, she saw Malfoy beaming at her, his eyes sparkling faintly. It made her stomach squirm to see him look at her that way.

"What?" she asked, feeling slightly nervous.

"You said my name," he said, as if this were the surprise of the century.

"I thought we had agreed to be on first name terms," Hermione said blankly, refilling her glass with some of the pumpkin juice.

"Yeah – yeah, we did," Malfoy nodded slowly, gulping down some more of the soup.

They continued to eat in a silence that was occasionally broken with inelegant slurping noises. Hermione tried to eat as quietly as possible, but she knew that eating soup without making such noises was impracticable.

"So, tell me about yourself," Malfoy murmured, trying to fill the silence.

Hermione turned slightly red, as she saw the boy look at her closely once again.

"Well there's nothing really to tell," she mumbled.

Malfoy shook his head at her.

"Hermione, stop being so nervous, honestly," he said genially, banging down his spoon and picking up his bowl.

He brought the blue bowl to his mouth and drank the soup from it. Hermione raised an eyebrow at his informal actions. Malfoy set down his bowl and grinned at her, before wiping the line of soup on his upper lip off with the edge of the tablecloth.

"Now I want _you_ to do that," he provoked, folding his arms and sitting back smugly in his chair.

Malfoy was gazing at her, the smirk returning to his face. Hermione felt a fleeting sense of relief as she noted that this really _was_ the old Malfoy.

"Go on, _Miss Priss_," he murmured, hoping to stir Hermione.

She glared at him, annoyed at his childish challenged. But Hermione wouldn't ever back down from any dare.

Hermione lifted the heavy blue bowl shakily up to her mouth and drank the lukewarm red liquid. She loved the feeling of heat that was spreading through her body, and she drank the liquid quicker, with an even greater ardour. Once she had finished the soup, Hermione set the bowl back onto the table, not looking at Malfoy.

"See, I did it," she said crossly, finally glancing over to scowl at the boy.

His lip twitched when he stared at her, and he then began to cackle with laughter.

Hermione looked at him incredulously, his display of hysterical laughter really starting to piss her off. It was downright rude to laugh so blatantly at your guest.

"What the bloody hell are you laughing about?" she screeched.

Malfoy stopped laughing and shook his head.

"It's just that you look so weird with a soup moustache," he murmured, wiping a fake tear from the corner of his eye.

Hermione turned bright red and she tugged at the tablecloth hastily, dabbing her lips and chin vigorously with the blue material. She looked angrily at Malfoy, but deep down, she knew the line of soup on her face would have probably been quite funny to witness. She couldn't suppress her own laughter after a while, and so graced Malfoy with a small chuckle.

Inwardly though, Hermione thought Malfoy was good at breaking the ice. Whether she admitted it or not, she now felt more inclined toward him.

"I lied," Malfoy said after they had both settled down.

Hermione quickly looked over at him.

"You mean I _didn't_ have soup on my face at all?!" she snapped furiously.

Malfoy shook his head and grinned at Hermione.

"No, no, you _did_ have soup on your face, I didn't lie about _that_," he said simply. "I lied when I said that you looked weird with the soup moustache. You actually still looked quite beautiful."

Malfoy's cheeks were suddenly tinged with red as he realised what he had said and he coughed and looked away. Hermione raised her eyebrow at him. She didn't think she had ever seen him blush before.

"Er – thanks," she mumbled yet again.

"Yeah," came the muffled reply, before Malfoy coughed yet again and levitated the pumpkin and potato pie and plates toward the table.

Hermione pushed her soup bowl away and she looked down at the pie. It looked mouth-watering, too. The pastry was golden and crisp, with a few holes here and there for ventilation. The aroma was positively divine.

"I'm sure this will be really good," Hermione said with embarrassment, not knowing what else to say. "Did you make all this, or what?"

Malfoy looked up at her and some of his discomfiture seemed to leave him.

"Nah, I can't cook for shit," he admitted sheepishly, and Hermione chuckled.

"Neither can I," Hermione said, cutting a piece of pie and placing it on Malfoy's plate.

"Thanks," he said, smiling at her, and she returned the expression readily.

* * *

Draco took a bite of his own pie and it was indeed as splendid as it was when he had tasted it at the kitchens. The pumpkin and potato mixture was creamy and lightly spiced with nutmeg and a few other herbs he couldn't quite recognise. The pastry was also very good and buttery.

"So you still haven't told me about yourself," he said, shovelling a forkful of pale orange mush into his mouth.

"Well, like I said, there's nothing much I _can_ tell you," Granger responded, licking specks of orange from the corner of her mouth. "Unless, of course, there's something in particular you want to know about me."

Draco shrugged.

"Maybe you can tell me how on earth you bear to live with those two Gryffindor clowns you regard your best friends," he said jokingly.

Granger frowned at him and he immediately regretted his words.

"They're not really that bad," she said, trying as best to keep her voice even.

Draco nodded, knowing better than to pursue the subject.

He surveyed Granger's appearance once more, completely enthralled by her natural beauty. Her long corkscrew curls were cascading elegantly down her back and over her chest, and moved freely every time she moved her head. Her eyes were subtly outlined in smoky kohl, which made her more gorgeous than Draco had ever seen her. Her plump lips were lightly glossed and Draco had an intense urge to claim them, to smother them completely with his own…

"Well then, maybe you can tell me how life is like living as a muggle, without any magic."

Granger raised an eyebrow at him.

"I doubt you'd want to know about that," she said, looking down uncomfortably at the half eaten slice of pie on her plate.

Draco smiled at her, hoping to ease her discomfiture.

"If I didn't want to know, I wouldn't have asked you," he said, keeping his voice light and sincere. "Look, you may think I'm a bigoted idiot, but I genuinely want to learn more about you."

"Let me assure you that it's mutual," Granger returned smartly.

She sighed, and Draco looked up at her politely, waiting for her to speak.

"It's not actually very difficult, living in a non-magical place," she started. "I guess, if you've had exposure to magic before and you revert back to a muggle lifestyle, then that would be tiresome. But if you've never known a life other than the one you'd been granted, then how could you deem that life unusual?"

Draco observed with great respect how Granger seemed to be able to phrase her profound thoughts so skilfully. It was apparent that she was an intellectual person, and Draco felt some of the pressure to consciously be nice to her leave him.

"I whole-heartedly agree," he nodded. "But of course, going by your theory that is, now that you've come to Hogwarts and learnt magic and the whole lot, you must find your muggle life at home rather abnormal or boring, even?"

Granger smiled pensively at him and Draco felt his stomach do somersaults.

"You would think that, wouldn't you?" she responded, clearly enjoying the topic of conversation. "But I still very much enjoy my life at home. Sure, it can get annoying at times, doing everything the muggle way – but having lived like them once, I respect the muggle lifestyle greatly."

Draco scraped the last remnants of pie off his plate before choosing to voice his opinion.

"But there's still one thing I don't understand," he said, looking up at Granger and trying to keep his voice neutral and inquisitive.

She set down her fork and frowned attentively at him.

"And what's that?"

Draco couldn't suppress the smirk from forming on his face.

"I just don't understand how you can keep your room tidy without magic!" he said, noting with immense happiness that the girl in front of him began laughing.

"Let me assure you, Draco, I'm a neat freak as it is," Granger confessed, shaking her head in mirth at the boy.

Draco felt another squirm in his stomach at the sound of his name. He really loved how his name complemented her sweet voice so agreeably.

"Maybe you could teach _me_ how to become one, too," Draco teased.

Granger smiled up at him.

"Yeah, I'd like that," she kidded back.

It was astounding how comfortable Draco was now around Granger. She was just as easy to talk to as Theodore… possibly even easier to talk to, as Draco could hardly talk to Theodore about serious matters.

Initially, he had felt like he and Granger had been polite but indifferent to one another but now – he could really visualise becoming good friends with her.

He had even forgotten that this dinner was organised predominantly for the purposes of his mission and the fact that Granger was a pathetic Mudblood.

Draco was indisputably having a great time with her.

"Okay, now's the time for dessert," he announced, levitating a large dish covered in a metal dome and some more plates over to the round table.

"Oh dear, I wonder what this is," Granger murmured in mock dullness.

Draco narrowed his eyes at her.

"I know your bursting with excitement, Granger, your act doesn't fool me for a second," he joked, standing up from his chair in order to lift the heavy metal lid away from the dish.

"Am I that bad at acting?" Granger laughed.

Draco shook his head.

"Nah, the theatrics were good – you're just a bad liar."

They both laughed, and Draco tried to lift the burdensome lid away from the metal dish, but it just wouldn't budge. He tugged at the small handle on the top of the domed lid, but the attempts were futile. He pulled his hands away impatiently

"Here – let me help you," Granger offered, standing up and placing her hands on the handle.

She pulled with evidently all her might, but the lid just wouldn't come off.

Draco absent-mindedly placed his hands on top of Granger's, in an effort to assist her.

The girl gasped rather loudly as their hands came into contact, and Draco felt faint rays of electricity run up his limbs. She looked quickly at him and he smiled at her to calm her nervousness and the corner of her lip twitched. They both pulled the lid gingerly off the dish, to reveal the rich, dark cake covered in a light muslin cloth.

"I guess we just had to be gentle with it," Granger mumbled, hastily withdrawing her hands from the lid of the dish and sitting back down on the chair.

"Yeah," Draco nodded, removing the muslin cloth to reveal the elaborately decorated Black Forest cake.

The icing was both dark brown and white, and there was a ring of cherries to border the edges of the cake. It looked absolutely superb.

"Would you like some Black Forest cake?" he offered, cutting Granger a slice nevertheless.

She smiled at him and nodded, and he placed a generous wedge onto her plate. Draco cut another slice for himself, and they both tasted the cake in companionable silence.

"Mmm, this is delicious," Granger sighed, scooping another morsel of cake into her mouth.

"Yeah, 'tis good isn't it?" Draco murmured his assent.

The two ate the rest of their slices of cake before Draco checked his watch. The time was ten o'clock! That meant that they had spent about three hours here already! But the time just seemed to have flown by so swiftly…

"Thank you so much for going to all this trouble tonight," Granger said graciously.

"It was my pleasure," Draco said. "I hope that we are friends now, right?"

Granger frowned at him, and Draco felt his heart dip in foreboding.

"Come on," he urged nervously. "I went to all this trouble, like you said, and you know how imploring the house elves –"

"Draco?" Granger whispered, but he clearly did not hear her.

"-can be, giving me all these options of what I could choose and it was actually quite hard making the decision – "

"Draco?!"

"-and – Di-did you say something?" Draco said blankly, looking back up at the girl who had an amused grin on her face.

He scowled at her. She sure was enjoying tormenting him, wasn't she?

"Yes, yes, we're friends okay, I was only kidding when I glared at you before," she laughed, and Draco could not help but join in the laughter.

* * *

The laughter was slow to die, and Hermione clutched at the sharp pain she was feeling in one of the sides of her stomach.

She looked up to see that Malfoy was looking at her, and the two locked gazes. His eyes were sparkling with wonderment and mirth, and Hermione felt intrigued by the unusual depth they displayed.

They stayed like that for a while, in pleasant silence that each was not keen to disturb with shallow words.

Then Hermione watched as Malfoy quickly got up from the round table and started to pile all the dishes onto the rectangular table. He performed a quick cleaning spell on the plates and they were soon sparkly clean and ready to be taken back up to the castle.

Just as Malfoy was about to pick them up, Hermione got up and they distractedly reached for the same plate. Malfoy looked up at her quickly as her hand closed around his and she went red. Hermione had not deliberately tried to make contact with him amidst the effort of helping him clear up.

She was suddenly aware how close both their bodies were. Hermione could feel his warm, peppermint breath against her cheek. She could hear his low, rhythmic breathing, could see his broad chest rise and descend with each inhalation…

Hermione felt Malfoy lean in close to her face.

And as both their noses came into direct contact and the boy's hand plunged into Hermione's soft curls, it brought her back to her senses and she quickly pulled her face away from his.

"We really should be getting back up to the castle," she muttered hastily, before picking up another pile of dishes and pacing toward the Astronomy Tower exit.

It was only when she reached the exit that Malfoy spoke up behind her.

"Thanks for coming tonight, Hermione."

Hermione turned around and saw that Malfoy had his back turned to her, his toned upper torso leaning slightly over the railing of the platform.

"I really enjoyed myself," she murmured, before turning around to walk out the door.

It was only when she had reached the halfway distance to the Head kitchens that Hermione realised, butterflies and all fluttering in her stomach, that she had not remembered to take her wand with her as a precaution to the Tower that night.

And the real truth was now, that she didn't particularly care.

* * *

****

**A/N:** Hey! I hope this wasn't too awkward or fluffy for everyone; maybe I got a tad carried away (hush!) but tell me what you think when you review. Also, how do you like Hailey? I was going to introduce her much earlier on in the story, but I just never got the opportunity. I've greatly revised my notes for this story over the past week, so if you notice a change in my writing over the past few chapters it just means I'm much more organised than I used to be hehehe. Hailey is a really sweet character, I'm not sure what impression people will get from her here, but please do **review **and I'll update soon! Oh and thanks for getting me over the two hundred review mark, you people rock! And I have special thanks that go to **DewDrop Sapphire**, who is so keen on this story and is invariably the first one to review each chapter à You're a true legend! Also, to **Yoss** – your review truly made me laugh, and I hope this chapter was not posted too slowly for you! Also I have started a **new story** called **Shattered Soul** so check that out if you would, it's rated R. Thanks, and don't forget to **review**!


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